I look over his labs daily. I read about everything hourly. And I’m lost every minute. My latest thoughts have been towards Addison’s Disease or Hypoadrenocorticism, often described as the opposite of Cushings syndrome or Hyperadrenocorticism.

There’s going to be good days and bad days. That’s all anyone could say. It’s a horrible thing when our bodies betray us. But if you look at life as vast as an ocean, as the Buddhist analogy goes, things or life happens in waves.

When I first learned of Cy’s diagnosis, a million things and a million emotions flooded through me. It was so overwhelming that there was a calmness about it, like a wave of bullshit was washing over me and giving me only one focus: Cy.

I can hear Carah and AJ in the distance, laughing as they paddle away. It’s just Cy and I now, floating on the water. Cy’s laying down in the middle of the kayak, nuzzled up against my legs. He’s both scared and curious… as am I.

There’s this weird balancing game that I’m playing now between maintaining Cy’s health and just going crazy with adventures. I constantly have to remind myself that I have to be the mindful one, aware of his well being. He can’t tell me when he’s in pain and he can’t tell me what he’s feeling. I have to keep looking for the signs, the symptoms.

Cy is coming home tonight after a 72-hour IV treatment. It’s been the longest three days. And this morning a call to the vet’s office triggered some major nerves. “The vet would like to talk to you.”

It wasn’t a particularly remarkable day. It was cloudy. The roads weren’t jammed packed nor were they open and free. Siri wasn’t telling me conflicting directions; she was straight and narrow. The stars were aligned.