Shalom Friends,
It is with a heavy heart and a scabby belly that I write this blog to you. If you hadn't already heard, I just underwent major surgery last week! Here's what happened...
My Grandma Peggy informed me that we were going to the vet for a "routine check up" and that was it. However, I knew she was lying when she failed to make eye contact with me and choked back gentle sobs as she blurted out swear words in Russian. Well, what I thought was kool aid in my tinkle, turned out to be blood! This triggered an immediate red flag and forced my worried grandmother to take me in.When we got to the vet, they ran multiple tests on me and ultimately ran an ultra sound to see what was going on in my southern region. I know what you're thinking... An ultra sound is for women (and the thought that I could be pregnant did cross my mind- with all the crazy nights I spent out in the Chi, the overload of smoked kibbles and bourbon that I consumed and the hunch that I had a mammary gland all these years, I thought it was possible).
Well, the ultra sound showed that I was in fact pregnant... With bladder stones! The vet informed my Grandma Peggy that I would need emergency surgery to get these suckers out of my bladder. So many instrumental people in my life crossed my mind when the vet prepped me for the super risky procedure (basically equivalent to a quadruple bypass) I thought of the most important woman in my life- my mama... She would never be able to cope if something went wrong during my surgery. I am the light of her life, the peanut butter to her jelly and the Sonny to her Cher. I also thought of my lover, Wrigley. We were more crazy in love than Michael Jackson at a Chuckie Cheese on Saturday Afternoon. And lastly, I thought of my beloved Aunt Peanut... How is her head so small? Why is it so small? It doesn't make sense! Shortly after these thoughts, I was ready for surgery and the last thing I remember was a nice lady poking my arm with some liquid that made me feel as doped up as Anna Nicole Smith during Mardi Gras. 
The next thing I knew, I was up, groggy and in a place that some people refer to as “The ICU”. I was hoping that McDreamy or Alex Karev would be my doctors, but that certainly did not happen. I did have a nice lady taking care of me though! She was actually Oprah's dog’s vet, so I knew that I was in good hands! I also hoped that Oprah wasn't there with her smorgasbord of delightful treats and favorite things, they would certainly hinder my ripped arms and washboard abs.Well, what seemed like days in the ICU passed and finally they were able to release me. My radiant mother and her decent looking sister, Louella, picked me up and we headed back to my grandparents house. I left the vet with a song in my heart, a bandage on my mangled paw and every hope of a full recovery.
Fast forward a few days and here I am... Still Alive and kickin'. I get pain meds every 6-12 hours and medicine for swelling every morning at 8am. I am still restricted to bed rest and my mom tells me that I can't see my
beloved Wrigley until my wound is fully healed. I wear a cone sometimes to prevent me from licking my special spot. That certainly puts a damper on my day and ruins my usual routine. But, I expect to make a quick recovery and I hope to continue working toward my dream of making it to the NFL. I will check back again soon, c’est la vie!
Love,
Your brave and tiny soldier
Phoenix Jaquim
