If it wasn't for my daxies I just crawl into bed and stay there. Have been unwell for over a month now, got rushed into hospital 8 days ago, but because I don't present like a normal asthmatic the junior house officer didn't take me seriously and i got sent home with antibiotics as a precaution. My foot deep x 7 medical files just didn't cut it with her :(. I am currently swallowing 50mg of Prednisolone daily, have my syringe driver going and nebbing as much as I want. It has taken me two hours just to get up this morning, and now I am sitting on the sofa recovering from a shower, in the hope that I can go out for a toddle with with the dogs in the sunshine.
For those of you who know me yes you did read the plural dogs, I have a new daxie in my life called "Chester," aged 3 who is a rescue and came to me a month ago. Cracking little chap, black and tan minnie dachshund. A friend rescued him after seeing him up for sale on facebook, something we both detest. My friend had two daxies already and didn't really think about what she was doing, nor did she tell her husband about Chester. So after 24 hours came to my door rather stressed and insisting he wasn't going anywhere and her husband would come round. Hubby and I had been thinking about having a second dog and so I said I was willing to take him in if she wanted me too. Hubby was asked but of course I had already made my mind up, and Chester moved in the very same day. Chester is a little devil and obvious that no one has done any training with him so we now go to training classes with him. Lottie my darling old girl as taught him that she is top dog, and they have settled well together. Lottie is also doing well after her recent back injury and back walking too. Having Chester has meant a few changes in the house, he is a wee bit of a barker so teaching him that is not acceptable, and neither is eating the mail, a cage is being fitted to the letter box. Cats are another thing, not sure whether I will be able to cure him of that, but god forbid me meets Jake from next door who will just give him a good slapping with his paws.
I don't often get frustrated with my health, just get on with it, but when you are full whack of drugs and they are not working it does leave you screaming inside. I keep going because I have to, yesterday i went for a walk in a local woods with hubby, I don't mind saying it was hell for my lungs, but seeing the furkids enjoying themselves is why I do it. Right now my lungs are screaming at me because they are so inflamed, but because I am not wheezing or noticeably SOB, and look okay I know that the outside world won't see my inner turmoil. Oh well whinge over, and I still have my furkids by myside
Love the Daxiemad Crew