It's here. The magical 24. I thought I was here before, but this time, it's true. I have truely lost 24 pounds. I can't wait to lose 7 more to make the 30lb mark. I will throw myself a party when I get to 35. That's my first official "goal". Since I moved my workouts from 60 to 90 minutes 5 days a week, things have been progressing much faster. Even when I havn't been eating as healthy, because I can't afford to feed myself good food with the brother and all. So, the only way to go is up. The bad news is I don't know how much longer I can wear the damn pants I'm wearing. I have 1 pair a size smaller that I can squeeze into. I dunno when to buy new clothes.
When I got home last night, my poor dog was limping. Here is what a freak I am. She couldn't jump up and down off her chair to pee, drink, or eat, so I used my large syringe I had to feed her with when she was sick, to give her water. She learned pretty quick to lick it and I squirted the water in her mouth. Then, I fed her peice by peice, her food. All while she lounged on her chair. Then, I carried her out and down the steps to pee. I even moved her to different spots she frequents, until she squatted in a spot she sniffed as appropriate.
She does this from time to time, she gets yeast dermatitis. Add this to the list of problems my poor dog has. It sometimes gets to the point her little feet swell up so it hurts her to walk. Then it gets her ear flared up too. Here's my dilemma. I have no money for the vet. Having 6 pets is expensive when I don't have a man to take care of. I have 3 pills for her dermatitis, and I'm hoping that is enough to get it under control. She hasn't had a flare up that bad in a year, so the vet would undoubtedly want her in for a check up before giving her another script. It use to be, I could just pick the pills up. I am wrecked with guilt over it, and am pretty pissed off that I have to spend my extra money on my brother. Who, doesn't seem to even want to help himself. He won't even fill out papers to get food stamps, to ease the pressure on me and the family for caring for him.
I mean, help yourself as much as you can. He had another Dr. appointment yesterday. It seems the skin graft didn't take all the way. So now, he has to possibly have another one. They took the machine sucking the goop out of his leg off, and just bandaged him up. Now, he has to go back to a clinic on Friday. At noon. I can't take off work again, a whole day. What if I get sick and need time off? No, I don't get to be sick. Now, instead of the nurse coming three times a week, he will have to go to a clinic near where I work. Half an hour from my house. 240 miles for 4 trips in a day. Me work. Me home get brother. Me take brother to clinic. Me take brother home. If he brings me to work, same difference. And, I'm not so sure I want him driving my car all around like that. The last thing I need is for an accident to happen.
Hey, 240 miles, has the number 24 in it. I lost 24 lbs. Did I mention that? Twenty four is coming to get me. I just watched the number 23. Can you tell? Now, that was a strange movie.