My month of squeezing in Summer was scheduled to start with a bang. For months, we had been planning to join friends in the mountains over Labor Day weekend, where we were planning to go out in a boat on a lovely lake, enjoy a picnic dinner and then watch Labor Day fireworks.
In my weeks of renovation and moving, I had held out this weekend as a sort of reward - an eventual and well-earned day off with friends, food and fireworks.
But on Thursday, I started to notice that a bad smell seemed to be following me everywhere. I couldn't tell where it was coming from. Since it was always where I was, I smelled my shoes and then my feet. Maybe I had stepped in something?
Then I noticed some drips on the floor near the staircase and realized Olympia must have had a little accident -- something that hadn't happened in over five years. And then, with sudden horror, I rolled her over and smelled her "parts", and immediately diagnosed a urinary tract infection (UTI).
I called the friend who had invited us to the mountains and started to sob.
I wasn't just crying, mind you. I was gasping, weeping, moaning... Between the contractor not showing up repeatedly, and sawdust everywhere, and still unpacked boxes and Tom saying we should really be further along in our unpacking, I just didn't have the ability to cope with poor Olympia being sick.
Still, I think the crying was a bit overdone.
In fact, I think I had come entirely undone. I was embarrassed to be sobbing to my friend, remembering that she had lost her mother to cancer earlier this year. A dog's UTI really wasn't that bad at all in comparison.
But it meant I couldn't take Oly to board at her daycare. And it meant I couldn't leave her with friends since she might have accidents at their place. (In desperation, I would ask some old neighbors nonetheless, but they had travel plans for the weekend.)
My friend suggested I call the vet right away, in case I was wrong. I made an appointment for two hours later, and spent all of the next 90 minutes and the 30-minute drive crying.
I put on sunglasses when I arrived at the vet clinic and managed to hold in my tears while the vet examined Olympia. On my recommendation, she turned Olympia over and smelled her and said while she wouldn't ordinarily diagnose a UTI on the basis of smell, she felt she could in this case. (The smell was really, really noxious.) Nonetheless, of course, she did do some tests (costing a total of $280) which would confirm the diagnosis by the next day and then re-confirm it today. And as this was Oly's third UTI, the vet prescribed 28 days of Cipro -- to make sure the bacteria was absolutely crushed. She said the Cipro might start to take effect in a day or two.
I cried all the way home. And I called my friend, and cried a little bit more -- while I apologized for having to cancel our plans, and for crying.
By the time Tom came home, my face was all blotchy and my eyes felt cried out.
Tom hugged me and pointed out that since we wouldn't be going away for the weekend, we could spend the whole three-day long weekend unpacking boxes.
And I started to cry some more...
