Monte

My weekend has been a whirlwind. I'm going to share it with you.

Friday morning I woke up sick. So sick that I threw up twice before I could even leave the house. When does this nausea end? I am at 9+3 today and I am really ready for it to be over. I got in my car to drive to work and didn't make it more than a quarter of a mile before I had to pull over and puke. In my car. In a bag. It was one of those moments where you can't believe it's happening to you, so you just...go with it. The rest of my day at work was pretty uneventful and I was happily finishing up some paperwork right around 4:00 when I got a call from my husband.

My husband always sounds sure of himself. This time, he didn't. "Um, I think you need to come home. Now. Something is wrong with Monte."

Monte is our 9-year-old German Shepherd that we've had since he was a puppy. Time stilled as he told me that our housekeeper had called to say that Monte was acting tired and "weird" all day. When my husband got home, he noticed he was acting disoriented. Within a short period of time, my husband noticed that Monte's eyes had filled with blood and seemed to be bulging. Yes, bulging with blood. My husband tried to be calm as he told me that Monte didn't seem to be able to see. Anything.

I got in the car and drove home, cursing the fact that I work so far from home. Meanwhile, I helped my husband to find the closest vet to our house and told him I'd meet him there. The whole time I was just praying that I would make it in time to say goodbye to Monte. I was sure that this was it. That we would be saying goodbye to him that day.

Long story short, the vet spent over two hours running tests on him, only to tell us that she had no idea what was wrong with him. She said that he is apparently in amazingly good health for his age, with the exception of the fact that he was suffering from "acute blindness." The vet was caring, kind, and thorough, but sent us home with no knowledge, plan, or diagnosis. We scheduled another appointment for the following morning.

That night, I saw my husband cry. This is something I have only witnessed maybe four times in our 13 years together. I was shocked and touched. I held him and tried to reassure him, but really, what can't you say? I realized that for me, having Monte home with us was a gift. I hadn't expected to have him with us anymore. But for my husband, he was shocked that this could have happened and couldn't stop imagining Monte's fear and confusion and the fact that there was nothing we could do for him.

Since then, it's gotten better. I mean, Monte is the same. Still can't see a thing, but he is calmer, and thinking things through, and no longer running around in a panic and smacking his head on everything (really, REALLY hard to watch). We took control and started going back to Obedience School basics, perfecting the perfect "Heel" right against our thighs and teaching him "Wait," "Right" and "Left." Our dog is so freaking smart. What dog can start to learn to turn left and right just based on voice commands within a two day span?? I am so proud of him and the training seems to be giving him a sense of control and decreasing his fear. But oh god, it is so heartbreaking to see him sitting at alert, listening as hard as he can for our next command, and staring blindly at nothing.

We have spent the entire weekend with him. I've been feeling sick off and on, which just adds to the grey, apathetic state that was induced by the sadness about Monte and the claustrophobia of staying home all weekend long. I know it's what I needed to do for myself and for my dog (and for my husband), but I have such a hard time sitting at home and doing nothing. It just makes me less productive, which then makes me feel more guilty and depressed. Yuck. What a cycle.

Today was Easter. Our last Easter without kids (knock on wood). We spent it laying around the house, curtains drawn, in grey semi-darkness. At the end of the day, we ventured out to go grocery shopping. On the way, I suddenly had a craving for a steak (really??) and mashed potatoes. On a whim, we pulled into a restaurant. We completely forgot it was Easter. We showed up to their Easter Buffet, 45 minutes before they closed for the night, and walked in dressed in our sweatshirts, jeans, and flip flops. Happy families in Easter outfits filled the room. How bizarre. Also, eating off of a buffet when pregnant is bizarre. Taste this - reject it. Taste that - go back for more. Taste this - almost gag out loud. So bizarre.

When we got home from dinner and grocery shopping, we were eager to see how Monte had done on his first time alone with his blindness. He was waiting at the back door, tail wagging, looking alert, happy and proud of himself. It warmed me so much to see that, as I've been worrying all weekend what will happen when we go back to work on Monday. (Luckily, our housekeeper comes and will take care of him for a few hours and my husband will probably come home at lunch to be with him).

And now it's Sunday night, my least favorite night of the week. I'm thinking of all of the things I left undone at work on Friday when I rushed out, which will make my Monday even harder, but mostly, I'm feeling relieved that we have Monte with us and that he was smiling at us when we came in the door tonight.

Monte, resting his eyes after the traumatic trip to the Vet