Doc McFishin

In what I can only describe as a miraculous act of the almighty God above, Harper and I just managed to save a fish ¾ of an inch long stuck in between a cheap plastic plant thingy weighed down by gravel.

Needless to say, the successful rescue attempt managed (if only for 15 minutes) to bring me out of the depressive slump I’ve been stuck in for days.

I’m not sure if Jeff asked me if it was a sign… or told me it was a sign…

I know that for half a fleeting second I truly believed that maybe it was… maybe today, on this gloriously cold rainy Saturday…. maybe…. just maybe…. things might start looking up… getting easier… leveling out…

-But-

Our fish celebration victory was short lived.  The hugs and high fives were quickly forgotten as we dealt with two ridiculously high BG readings, a disastrous set change (freaking blood in the tubing AGAIN) and then….  yet… ANOTHER infusion set change all of 30 minutes later.

RAAAAAWWWWRRRRRR.  *sigh*  

Is it possible to feel rage and anger when depressed? I’m spending as much time trying to diagnosis my own feelings as I am attempting to figure out what in God’s name is going on with Saul’s little body.

Jeff randomly asked me the other day “What would make things better? What would make you feel better?” and my only reply was “I really want to shoot something.” Okay before anyone goes and gets all “crazy” on me… I’m not a threat to myself or anyone else (excluding two of the four legged animals in this house).

I guess I’ve spent the past week living in a constant state of frustration. Everything frustrates me. BG readings frustrate me. Not being able to figure out the cause of a BG reading frustrates me. Blood in tubing frustrates me. Changing sites frustrates me. Waiting while the medical team reviews data frustrates me. The thought of anyone else having to do this job frustrates me. And then you add in everything else in my life… laundry, bathes, cleaning, dishes, meals, getting out of bed… going to the bathroom…

Life in general is just frustrating.

But hey at least I’m still living… not broke yet.

Both kids are currently obsessed with “fixing” people. No doubt a combination of recent events mixed with daily episodes of Doc McStuffins. We’ve diagnosed, nursed, ambulanced, researched and doctored nearly every living and non-living creature in this house.

Our business is booming. I mean seriously…. Who can match our success rate of 100%?

“You broke? We fix. 100% Guaranteed. No… really… we ALWAYS fix you.”

During the regular fish feeding this morning when I noticed a missing fish I told Harper “things don’t look good… we gotta missing fish.” She actually laughed and waved her hand in the air blowing me off. I said “No…  really Harper, I think one of our fish might be dead. I’m going to have to get it out of the tank. We won’t be able to save it. It’s dead.”

“Oh Mom… I see it… down there… his head is bobbing. He’s telling us he’s okay.”

I looked and was not surprised to find a dead fish stuck in between the plastic plants at the bottom of the tank.

Again, in my attempt to ward off any hysterics, while being honest about life… and death…  I told her “I’m going in… when I get him out we can bury him.  He won’t swim again cause he’s dead. He’s not moving.”

I guess sometimes miracles do happen. Life prevails over death. People (and sometimes fish) find themselves in frustrating situations which seem like certain death sentences… but they don’t always have to be. Sometimes we keep swimming.

All I can say is chart another success… ummm…  go ahead and make that two…