A friend of mine is chronicling her journey with diabetes on Facebook, but the ups and downs, as she learns to work with her new diagnosis. On a post today where she lamented higher than expected blood sugar, I replied, "I am a total pro at diabetes care after 3 years of dealing with Nimar ills. If you ever need me to give you a mad chase through the house (complete with epic swearing) culminating in my sitting on you and stabbing your ear (and myself) to get blood, know that I would totally do that for you."
Because seriously, sometimes you just need to find a (morbid) bit of humor in these things to make it through.
Nimar had very set routines. He would butt heads with you strongly if you tried to deviate. This was actually very beneficial once he became ill, as we could readily determine when something was more wrong than usual, because he would alter his routine. Even with our reliance on his stubborn plans, it was easy to build new routines for him if he found it rewarding enough.
When we started traveling with him all of the time, we did our best to make trips, especially those to the Cabin "special" in an attempt to make him less riotous when it came time to transport him. (So, yeah, that did not much work, but he did love the new traditions we built for him at the Cabin.) Among these, was giving him an egg every weekend morning. In fact, he would hear an egg crack and come running to sit at my feet and wait for his special meal. Once it was plated and cooled off, I would tell him to go to the living room so his papa could watch him enjoy it and he knew right where to go and wait for me to bring it.
When I was cooking breakfast this morning, I saw Nimar's little egg pan sitting next to the sink. I only ever used it to cook his single egg in the mornings or his three wild-caught jumbo shrimp every Saturday evening (because you eventually get to a point with a terminally ill animal that you allow them to have pretty much whatever they want).
I decided that since it was Easter, that the little girls could also enjoy an egg for breakfast. I told them that the pan was special as I was fixing it and I told them why. Then took them out to the living room so that their papa could watch them make an epic mess out of it. Will this be a new tradition? I don't know, as they seemed more interested in flipping yellow yolky shards all over the rug than they did eating it. But they were cute doing it and I enjoy the rather bittersweet memories of my little guy.
Savannah Caretaker who is honored to do the job.
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