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Just came downstairs to a gigantic pile of metaphor


Ricky Spanish
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Man, sitting here at 1 am thinking about the variety of issues to deal with in the morning including paying someone to cut this tree that is about to come into my house due to TS Ophelia and dreading the work day to come.

 

I realize my BS pales in comparison to what others are challenged with.

 

Hang in there dude and I just wish the very best to you and your family and just remember everything will work out in the end

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Wow I kinda hate you for making me laugh so many times in what must have been an emotional and tough post to write.  You kept sneaking in the comedy after touching moments and it almost made me feel bad to laugh, haha.

Took me a minute to get past the “literal poo eating grin”

My sincerest best wishes to your wife’s battle and to your whole family… Keep Pounding!!

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Damn, that is a tough situation.  I’m so sorry that your young family has been going through this. Cancer sucks.  You just have to keep pounding and doing your best.  
 

The dog… I understand that.  I’m more fortunate that my doggo is only peeing in the house.  She’s a puppy that was completely house broken, but she’s not happy about us being back at school.  You can only try to be consistent.  Maybe your vet can give you something to help your dog not like the taste of their poo.

Best wishes!  As much as I’d like for the Panthers to be a good distraction for all of us, doesn’t look like this is the season for that.

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10 hours ago, Ricky Spanish said:

This post is a bit of a vent session, but not how you might think.

Lemme tell you all a story about the last year or so of my life.

Last September my wife, my kids, and my two dogs moved into our new house. We were thrilled because we had been staying with my parents for a year while it was being built. Well it just so happens that a month later, our old dog Moose (yes, named after THAT Moose) had liver failure and we had to put him down. My wife was distraught. That little dog was her best friend and partner in crime. We got him back when we were a young couple in college and he was there through some of the best and worst times in her life over 14 years. We were just happy we got him into the house before his time was up.

Months pass and my wife is still taking it hard. She misses the companionship of her best friend. She said she'd never want a dog again after Moose died, but the idea was starting to grow on her. One of her coworkers showed her a picture of their dog, and it just so happens that the place she got it had puppies. Welp, the wife fell in love with one of those puppies and in January we brought home Captain (No, not named after THAT Captain). I was in no spot to say no to this happening. Who was I to tell her no if she wanted to open up her heart to a new dog? His personality is very similar to Moose's in many ways, and he is an absolute sweetheart that gets along with our other dog and literally everyone he meets.

The problem, however, is that my wife is a teacher and we got this dog in the middle of the school year. I work from home. Guess who got stuck taking care of the puppy? Yours truly. I didn't want a puppy. We already have a house trained dope ass frisbee chasing Border Collie that's my BFF. I didn't want to house train another dog, especially when I would be the one who would be the primary caretaker of said puppy.

Fast-forward to June. Dog still isn't housetrained. This is the worst most stubborn dog to potty train I have ever had. The border collie was a breeze and she was housetrained within a month or two. Not Captain. Captain is a dipshit. Also he eats his own poo, which is also disgusting, never had a dog that did that before, but I digress. It's now June so school is out, that means my wife will be home to help out with this idiot puppy that won't stop pissing and crapping all over our new house. I'll finally get some help. Well, at least I thought I would. The best laid plans of mice and men and all.

My wife goes to the doctor back in June and says that she's been fatigued since April and she noticed a lump on her breast. She thought nothing of it because it was painful and that usually just means it's a cyst. Last minute of the appointment the Doctor schedules her a mammogram, just to be safe. Wife goes to the mammogram. Something doesn't look right. She gets a biopsy done. A week later we get the news: Stage 2 triple negative breast cancer at 34 years old.

Treatment is aggressive, because this form of breast cancer is also aggressive. The tumor grew 2cms in the time between her first biopsy and her first MRI. Chemo starts damn near immediately and it takes her down hard. She is bedridden for a week straight. In that time frame I become Father, Mother, caretaker, nurse, housekeeper, and chauffeur overnight. Where we once split the duties of running the house, all responsibilities now fall on me. She is too sick to drive, so I now drive her to all of her appointments (we're up to 34 appointments in total since June btw). I'm just trying to keep us afloat as she fights for her life.

Through all of this big deal real world poo that is happening, this fuging dog will not stop pissing and shitting all over the house. I am growing frustrated. I want to get rid of the dog. I cannot get rid of the dog. The children are now attached. If I'm being honest I kind of am too, he really is a sweet boy, plus this dog adores me because I have been the one that has been keeping him alive and spending time with him ever since we got him. If he would just stop shitting inside the house, he'd be a really good dog.

June turns to July, July to August, August to September. Wife goes through multiple rounds of chemo, each one taking her down just as hard as the last. I spend as much time with the kids during the summer as I can while still working my regular 9-5 and taking care of wifey. Any spare time is dedicated to making sure this damn dog doesn't crap inside the house.

We are now in September. The first chemo regimen has ended, new weekly regimen starts. The hope is that this new regimen won't be as hard on her, that she'll be able to feel like herself more, even if just a little icky from the chemo. The first round of this new chemo cocktail was last Thursday. We are cautiously optimistic. Friday rolls around and she feels fine. We have optimism. Saturday rolls around and she is tired, but still able to spend time with the family. We have hope. Sunday, today, rolls around and my wife can't get out of bed. She is exhausted and feels like she is going to vomit all day. I am disappointed but not surprised. I take care of the kids like I have been the past few months, but I'm bummed. I miss my wife. I miss my best friend. I really wanted this to work out. This poo is hard guys.

One of the few escapes I've had throughout this whole ordeal in my personal life has been to follow this team. So I watch the game as best as I can while trying to keep the children alive. I feed and bathe them before bed. I had cautious optimism for this team when we hired Reich. I had optimism when we traded up to the #1 pick. I had hope when we took Bryce. I see we lose again. I am disappointed but not surprised. I get the kids to brush their teeth and see if my wife will be able to help me put the kids to bed. She is too sick and stays in bed. I do not blame her in the slightest. I just want her to feel better. I put my daughter down, read a story with her and kiss her good night. I go into my son's room, put him to bed, read him a story, and then rub his head until he falls asleep. I fall asleep next to him.

I am awoken at 8:30 by the sound of whining. It's Captain. He just went out about an hour ago when I sent the kids to brush their teeth. He's been doing better lately about letting me know he needs to go outside. The whining is a good sign. I am optimistic he's finally getting it.

I get up and head downstairs, and then the smell hits.

I'm too late. Sitting at the bottom of the stairs is a gigantic pile of crap that the dog has both stepped in and tried to eat. I look at the dog wagging his tail at me with a literal poo eating grin. I'm disappointed but I'm not surprised.

There's a metaphor here. I don't know exactly what it is, but it's there.

This team is a distraction for me at this point in my life. I can't get upset about them being bad though. I've been saying for a while now I don't get upset about this team like I used to because I have way more important stuff going on. The above situation is that more important stuff going on. It's one of those things in life that really puts everything else into perspective.

Anyway, I hope they turn it around. They'd be a really good team if they learned to stop shitting inside the house. Until they do, I'll just be disappointed.

But I won't be surprised.

I poo'ed your post.  Not because its bad....but due to all the references to poop.  Keep Pounding, Brother.

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Cancer sucks. Dog poo sucks. The Panthers suck. But family is all we've got. I will pray that God heals your wife. As for the dog, I've been there. I'll pray, but I'll probably just be disappointed. 

You're a strong man though, I can see it in your words. That strength will carry your family through. I will pray for your strength as well.

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