This summer, I’ve been pretending I’m not naked in public. In fact, I’ve been pretending really hard. But at some point, the gig is up.
Yes, I’ve been faking it.
There have been clues here in the blog, but not loud ones. The truth is, after 25 years of disabling more-or-less mystery illness, late this spring I was diagnosed with long-term Lyme disease. I don’t have a habit of talking about this aspect of my life, because after 25 years I’m used to it and I don’t figure there’s a lot to talk about. I talk around it a lot, but it’s not much evident from the outside looking in–only if you already know.
The other reason is that when you open a dialogue about a disease as controversial as Lyme, you need to be prepared to follow up on it, and I haven’t had the energy to do that.
The thing about treating Lyme at this chronic stage is that the little spirochete bastards are buried deeply in your whole body–muscles, organs…nervous system. Symptoms wax and wane–and in my case, frankly, had reached a point of steadily increasing affect–but none of it is truly acutely active.
Until you start to treat it. Treatment dredges things up. If you’re me, you also react to the treatment protocol itself.
So although I had all those years of coping behind me, suddenly I was in over my head. I started committing Big Stupids.
The deadlines have been barely met; the dogs have been lightly trained; the horse has been barely ridden. I’ve been skating through on very thin ice. But sadly, I’ve reached that moment where I can’t fake it any longer, so here we are.
The crux moment happened last Thursday evening as I was preparing for the weekend’s agility trial. (For some reason, our Q rate has plummeted. I just can’t imagine why. But the dogs are a big part of what keep me going, so we still go out to play.) I had to check something on the AKC site and while I was there, I poked my nose into the dogs’ records–where I discovered that contrary to my belief, Dart had NOT earned his Excellent Standard title in August.
Therefore, I had entered him in the wrong class at the early September trial (Excellent B, for dogs with the title; he should have been in Excellent A, for dogs without that title). And he was entered in the wrong class for this past weekend. And there was nothing to be done to fix it, and yeah, there it was…
The really public Big Stupid.
So even though Dart qualified a couple of times these past weekends, and even though those courses were exactly the same as the Excellent A courses, and even though those qualifications would in fact have finished out his title…well, they don’t count for a thing. In a few weeks I’ll get a letter from AKC scolding me for being in the wrong class and making sure I know that the qualifying courses don’t count and thanks for the entry fee donations and what was I even thinking?!
So there you are. And it was embarrassing, and upsetting, and really, really frustrating–since had I not messed up, Dart would have the title in question as of today.
Well. Really, I have a system for keeping track of this stuff. And really, I’m not just randomly dropping out, messing up, or just plain forgetting. (In fact, it’s kind of scary to be me right now, knowing that in spite of my best efforts, the next Big Stupid is waiting right around the corner.) But meanwhile, we took the dogs out for a weekend of agility fun, and they had fun, and on Sunday I even felt a little hint of acuity and Connery ran with resounding cheer and Dart had his best standard run ever, that silly little boy.
And now that I’m publicly naked…I hope you’ll pardon the Big Stupids as they come along!