Week Five (2.0)

 I had a home on my route with two dogs that loved to be outside.  The lab loved to bark.  The Golden loved to bark through her muzzle. They'd get all excited when I came close to the house, I'd talk some baby hooman talk to them, cautiously leave the package a safe distance away from the door and return to the route. I delivered the Lab's ashes the day they came to the house. After that the Golden would still bark and be crazy through the gate, but the muzzle was gone.

People don't usually muzzle their dogs unless there's an issue for safety.  One day not long after, I caught the owner out mowing the lawn and asked if she was muzzled because she and the other dog used to fight. He laughed and said, "No, she's muzzled when we're not out because she's eating rocks.  She had to have a thousand-dollar surgery to remove them from her stomach."

I decided to archive my last post. I shared this story instead to remind us all that no matter how it looks on the outside, there's still room for misinterpretation. From the outside, written only from my prospective in a raw, unfiltered media, I can see why my post stirred concern.  I assure you all that I am not blind to who my son is, or what could happen. I am watching carefully. His drug of choice is not alcohol, it is pot, which typically doesn't provoke violence.  In his endeavors to get healthy he has cut way back on both his nicotine and marijuana vices. He also has come back to eating healthy and gluten free. I mention this because he has a neurological condition in which the gluten leaches into his brain and acts as a dopamine.  When it is removed (typically for three weeks after) the brain misfires like crazy until the pathways reestablish. Since he's removed the gluten obstruction as well as the pot haze, while his logical frontal lobe is functioning better, his rear lobe that controls impulse its firing off like a jack rabbit running from a wolf.

In addition, he is still going through therapy several times a week, similar to his own specialized outpatient treatment. He can, if he chooses, get access to the correct medications through her. As the band aids are ripped off, he internalizes things, picks away at the wounds, and is struggling to heal. He's going on his own to these appointments, despite them not being convenient.  He's reached out to his mentor despite his frustration and angst. He is still not associating with people that should not be in his life. And he has not, thus far, fallen back into old habits. Change is hard, and he is still struggling to face it.  I believe he wants to feel better, his brain is just a mess of impulse and logic. And, at only twenty years old, it's a lot to manage.

On the other note, the Hubs and I have talked, loudly, and logically, and his target date is November first.  After speaking with the retirement advisor, I do feel a tiny bit more comfortable with his decision. We are going to sit down and see where we can save money on his bills, as he carries many of the variable expenses like food, dog care, car insurance, etc. Provided we have accounted for the yearly costs of some bigger bills being tucked safely in the bank, we should be okay. We're giving up the vacation this year, which I am fine with, and are looking into banking some of his vacation time to be paid out as an after-retirement bonus check.

So, I'm going to give it some time to work itself out focusing on the next 13 days before my surgery. I cannot control everything, nor do I want to. Until then, I'm going to go get myself a cookie, and I'll see y'all in week six.