Why PTSD + PCOS = N.O.T. L.L.I.C.K.E.D.

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Licked, is a word to describe an action of your tongue.  It also has a second meaning, to be defeated.  I have determined, I will not be licked.  As a matter of fact, I will be NOT LLICKED.  Never Overcome or Trampled.  I will Live & Laugh Inconstantly, Constantly, Kindly, Expressively, and Devotedly.

As a wife of a veteran with PTSD, and a sufferer of PCOS, life has thrown us some unexpected twists and turns.  I had it all planned out.  I would get married and have children by the time I was 19.  By the time I was 25 I would have 3 children.  This plan started off strong.  However, I now find myself divorced, on my second marriage, and with no children, per se. I do however, have a fat cat named Pork Chop.

Pork Chop has a name that suites him well.  We rescued him from a pet grooming and boarding place in Dexter, Missouri.  Apparently, his owners gave him up, and Pork Chop was not adjusting well to his new life.  He growled at everyone, and was so unhappy, he was put up for adoption for free.  Actually, they had told me $25.00, but when I got there to meet Pork Chop, they were just happy I liked him, and told me just to take him.  Pork Chop is now living the high life, eating and sleeping when ever and where ever he pleases.  Although we do not over feed him, somehow his belly continues to grow.  The vet told his this was fine, tho if he were a human, he would be pot bellied.  We decided he must have two names.  Pork Chop, AKA Panzone (meaning fat boy, in Spanish.  We say this endearingly of course!).

After only knowing each other for three months, Robert proposed and put a ring on layaway.  After being divorced for four years, falling in love with him was completely unexpected. So says everyone that is divorced, but so true!  Our wedding came eight months later, and we already had expressed the want and need for children.  We decided since we were both in our pre-life, mid-life crisis, it made sense to put our entire lives on fast forward.  After all, I was already in my 30s, and stuff in our lives should be happening by now!

Robert and I found ourselves laughing in the middle of tears, as my PCOS proved a major stumbling block in our plans. Life decided to press the stop button instead of fast forward.  On and off diets, Metformin, and Clomid, nothing seemed to help.  Somehow, adopting a fat cat seemed like a good substitute! Because becoming a fur mom is a real thing, right?  As the Penguins  from Madagascar would say, “Just smile and wave boys, just smile and wave”.  See?  I knew you would agree with me!

It took about six months for Pork Chop to convince Robert that yes, being a cat person isn’t all that bad.  Pork Chop had his days and nights mixed up, and at one point, he kept us up all night meowing that he wanted to go home.  (We had just moved from a small one bedroom house, and for some reason, Pork Chop didn’t appreciate the extra room in our new place.) We finally let him outside, to get some sleep.  The next morning, we found him back at the old house huddled in a box, like a goof ball.  After that episode, Pork Chop somehow made amends with a very tired and cranky husband with a little humor. Humor is all it takes to win my husband’s heart I’ve found.

Pork Chop decided the top of the washer was his spot at the new house.  If we couldn’t find him, he was in the laundry room, as always.  One day while Robert was doing laundry, Pork Chop decided he didn’t care the washer lid was opened. That washer was his spot and no one would claim it!  Pork Chop’s response to falling into a washer filling up with water was to meow while getting water in his mouth.  Forget trying to jump out, meowing was the way to go.  According to my husband, it sounded a little like this…”Meeoglglgleleow, Meeeglglglglglgoooow!!”  Oh the joys of fatherhood, where the initial response is not to see whether your fur baby is ok, but to laugh.  After laughter has commenced, then you see if the fur baby is ok.  Finally, you somehow tell fur mom when she comes home.  Fur dad will then say “Everything is ok, but something ‘funny’ happened!” (It was funny tho, poor Panzone).

Everyone says, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  I say, when life gives you lemons, plant the thing, and watch it grown into a strong tree.  A lemon tree, according to Home Guides, doesn’t bear fruit for five years, and doesn’t become fully mature until 10-14 years after planting. So it seems that Robert and I have decided to take the long way to make lemonade, but we have surely laughed along the way.

Jeremiah 29:11 (KJV)

11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

photo credit: {{So love the one you hold And I’ll be your gold⭐ To have and to hold A lover of the light}} ~mumford&sons via photopin (license)

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Advertisements

About the post

Blogging

4 Comments

Add yours →

  1. I absolutely LOVE this. Pet moms are definitely a thing. I love my fur babies! I have PCOS and am not looking forward to start trying my journey. Your husband sounds so great. Check out my first blog and let me know what you think!

    Like

  2. I really enjoyed reading this!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: