Ooooooh, doesn’t this just look “delicious?” They’re chicken hearts! Buddy hasn’t been eating dog food now for a couple of months, not moist or kibble, it’s almost as if he can smell or sense something rotten in it and won’t touch it, but he eats stuff I give him, so he’s not sick, so now I feed him real meat (I know, he’s spoiled) chicken hearts, stewing beef, and liver, plus any left-overs we have such as deli meat, hotdogs, ground beef, roast, etc. I had the option of boiling the hearts which would take an hour, or frying them which takes 5 minutes or so, so I chose the frying.(why make more work for yourself or take longer if you don’t have to, right?) and besides, standing at the stove boiling hearts I would feel like a witch or a voodoo priestess or something stirring my cauldron of spells.
When they were fried they turned a grey colour and looked like toes, or finger tips but once I cut them in half so they’re bite-sized portions for him they looked like mushrooms so to try not to gross myself out handling them I just tried to convince myself they were mushrooms. I’m just frying mushrooms. I’m just cutting mushrooms. I’m just touching mushrooms. They’re just mushrooms… at least they thankfully didn’t reek and stink up the entire house cooking like liver does! I must have had 60 or so hearts in there, hopefully it will last him a week. As well as always tormenting my dog now the 10 YR old also tried to kill the 16 year old’s hamster ,too, trying to stab it with a knife! I swear to God that kid needs help but no one ever listens to me and they just blow off anything I say or any concerns that I have….
My hubby and the girls also went up to Ottawa for the weekend for the 16 YR old’s cheerleading competition. Due to our past there with our enemy that threatened our family and we had to move and caused us to live hiding and in fear for years I can never go back there to Ottawa ever again with those memories and why we had to leave; it would trigger back my PTSD again, but I am slowly healing as at least now they no longer have that same grip over me that they once did and I no longer live in fear of them; I just don’t even care anymore. That incident doesn’t define me or my life anymore and it’s no longer going to have a hold over me or affect me now. I’m not giving them that control.
One of my cousins in Europe also said that she had an ovarian cyst removed too; that she had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome when she was younger and it caused her abdomenal pain as well, like with me, so I wonder if there’s maybe some genetic link? My mother also asked me how I slept that night, before hearing my scan results, knowing I may have been told I had cancer, but actually I slept well( for once) because I don’t care. Most people don’t want to have cancer but for me it would actually be a blessing. It would finally be an answer to my prayer, my way out! I’d have to think of a different way to kill myself the next time ( and I’m sure that there will be a next time at some point, there always is and I’ve already tried 6 times or so) though because I’ve used up all my pills I’d had saved, so maybe I could hang myself but then again I figured with my “luck” with my weight the ceiling fan would probably come crashing down and part of the ceiling with it, so I wouldn’t even be able to hang myself successfully…that sounds like me.