Infusions and Kuma, the end

 Well, I'm not sure where to start.  

I guess I should start with the infusion.

I can't keep doing the treatment.  I described the reaction I had that first night.  The fevers and chills lasted from Wednesday until Saturday.  The fevers hovered around 101 but got up to 102.something.  On Monday morning I woke up feeling so much better but after only a few hours of being awake I noticed a rash on my arms and as the day went on it slowly spread all over my body.  My feet and hands were swelling and my throat was itchy.  When Mike got home from work I headed to the ER.  They got me in very quickly even though they had a full waiting room.  They gave me a steroid and sent me home.  The steroid was effective at taking care of my rash but I woke up the following day with my hands and feet so swollen and feeling arthritic.  I could barely make a fist.  Over the week the swelling went down but my hands and feet felt really sensitive, like tiny shards of glass were cutting me.  I was taking Benadryl around the clock to manage the histamines in my system.  At this point Kuma was back.  Holding his leash was tough.  Staying awake from the Benadryl was tough.  The whole week and a half was just rough all around.  The doctor said he had never had a patient react to the medication and he said I can't continue the treatment.  The first infusion was the smallest dose, and administered over a longer period of time and therefore, it would only get worse over time.  I mean, I cried a lot during that period of time.  I had prepared my mind for the side effects of the medication but hadn't anticipated I'd have a reaction to the medicine and eliminate my opportunity to finish the treatment.  I'm obviously grateful that nothing worse happened and that I don't have to suffer through side effects for eight months but I'm also very sad that I had the reaction.  I'm only just feeling better, just in time for what would have been my second infusion.  The doctor did an eye check and said that even the small dose of Tepezza made my eyes better so it would have worked for me, but now, I can expect them to go back to how they were.  Everyone keeps asking me what the next steps are.  This was it.  Anything after this will be a step back, and basically just be managing symptoms.  I felt peaceful about this treatment and I actually really thought God had led me to the treatment.  There were some hurdles to jump to make it happen but with every one, it seemed that He worked it to my advantage.  I'm not sure what I was supposed to learn from the experience.

In other very fresh news, we no longer have Kuma.  

We are heartbroken.  I pushed through the reaction to take care of him each day until the kids came home and then they helped me but it was so hard.  He came back from the trainer's much better than before, which we felt so grateful for, but he still needed so much more than we could give him.  Part of our problem is the same problem we had with all of my babies--he just would not sleep.  Puppies are supposed to get a crazy amount of sleep but I could not figure out how to get him to sleep and he would end up being overly tired, disobedient, and hyper.  He required literally every ounce of my attention.  Mike had half a week off and after the first day he said, "We can't keep him.  Even with the two of us, we can't do anything but take care of him."  It is truly humbling to admit that you are insufficient and to admit defeat.  I've cried a lot about this decision--everyone but Eli has cried about it.  You can't help but love what you care for.  I put so much love and patience and attention into Kuma and truly do love him but I also have to admit that I am not enough for him.  Sweet Piper cried but said to me, "I love you more than I love having Kuma and if you need to get rid of him, it's okay."  Her declaration of love means so much to me.  She loved him so much and I hate that Mike and I are hurting her and Felicity but I appreciate that she is willing to sacrifice her happiness for me.  Like with so many other things lately, I can't help but think I've gotten all of my signals crossed.  We felt like Kuma was the dog we were supposed to have.  I can't help but think if I was just a little more patient, sacrificed my needs for just a little longer, we could have made it work. 

I have a hard time understanding why I keep making decisions, well-thought through decisions, only to come to the conclusion that I was wrong.  I didn't expect it would be a perfect journey, but I was also willing to open myself to the hard for the end result.  To have to admit I was wrong in the case of Kuma, and to accept that God doesn't want the treatment for me, is a hard pill to swallow.  

I have no idea what the purpose is, but I hope the heartbreak of the last few months does, in fact, have a purpose.