I know I have been sadly neglecting my blog.
We had a bit of a rough week here in Crazyville. It's health-related, something I wasn't prepared for. I can't say much, except it's definitely not cancer, but it's worrisome. I spent yesterday in a daze at the doctor's office, scared and crying. However, my doctors are closely monitoring me, we caught it early, and they seem very positive that we can fix this. Left-brain is being my rock; he's confident this will be OK. He was trying to cheer me up while I was in the doctor's office, with silly inside jokes, and, because some witch lady got mad that my doctor got pulled out of a consult with her (I had an appointment with the physician's assistant, but she pulled him out of his appointment and started acting like a jerk in the hallway, which upset me more, because I don't like to cause problems), told me I need to not worry if anyone else is upset, that, for once, I need to put myself first. I'm trying that. And, as I so often do when it's too much, I put it in a higher power's hands.
The very wierd thing is, my stitching, which always gives me comfort when I am troubled, is the farthest thing from my mind right now. I got home last night (after spending 45 minutes trying to find the CVS for a prescription I need, because I was in a daze when the doctor told me where the prescription was filled), took a few stitches, and put my stitching down. Beazer crawled up on the bed with me, and I just petted him and petted him. He gave me a look, like, "You have no reason to be afraid, you has pittybull protecting you. Nossing bad will happen, Mummy," and then licked my face. He's a good boy, that old dog of mine.
I know I'll be back to stitching in a day or two. I just need a moment to process.