Thursday, May 01, 2014

A little decorum, please...

I have been having difficulty sleeping.  It is hard to sleep with my arm in pain by the end of the day.  The pain shoots up the inside of my right arm.  It needs to be warm - the cold intensifies the pain.  It needs to be straight out to feel okay.  By the end of the day, it just hurts.

To top that off, my insomnia has kicked off.  Not only is it difficult to get to sleep, but also difficult to stay asleep.  Melatonin worked for awhile, now it seems to have stopped.  Benedryl, the additive to over the counter analgesics, keeps me awake.  I try to read, and that makes my eyes sleepy, but that's all.

Anyway, the point is, my anxiety level has been high lately.  It is difficult to leave the house and I sense some agoraphobia.  I don't want neighbors to see me.  I don't want to see them.  Across the street, a house that has been empty for many years now has a rummage sale.  I cannot go outside without seeing not only my neighbors, but also the local rummagers.

Wednesday I took Ziva in to the Staples Vet Clinic for shots, check up and spaying.  I did not sleep well the night before because of my anxiety.  Looking deeper, I realize that my last couple of visits to the vet have resulted in me coming home sans a family member.  Maybe therein lie that anxiety.  Plus, my fear of driving and it was rainy and Ziva is scared of car rides at this point.  So, we both trembled all the way to Staples to the vet.

We have veterinarians in Brainerd, but I was told how good Staples was and how inexpensive.  When I pulled up to the building I could see why it was inexpensive: it looked like it was about to fall down!  The tiles in the building were cracked with pieces missing.  The front desk was dark and crowded with various people both behind and standing in front of the desk.  A lady rushed by me with a tissue clutched tightly in her hand held up to her red face.  My heart went out to her.

I gave Ziva's information to the girl at the front, and after what seemed like a very long time, she had me take Ziva to the back.  I dropped Ziva off in a kennel like they show on the ASPCA commercials. I hugged her and tried to walk calmly out.  In the middle of the hallway between offices, there was a dead Rottweiller in a wheelbarrow.  Apparently this is what the lady was crying about.  I was a bit shaken, since it had not been long since I held a lifeless dog in my arms.  As the wheelbarrow moved, the dog stilled jiggled.  It was not stiff yet.  My mounting anxiety directed me through the wrong doorway before I was corrected and pointed in the right direction.

I got in my car and put on my seatbelt in enough time to see the wheelbarrow with its uncovered load coming out the back door of the building and heading for another small building on the lot.  I pulled around in enough time to see the guy dump the body into the metal cylinder it would be burned in.  I did not notice the chimney coming out of the building before now.  I continued home, not really following the speed limit until I noticed later and just wanted to go get Ziva back.