Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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It has been a draining three weeks. Four weeks? I can’t even remember when Beorn’s health woes began at this point. But it is tiring to be on high alert. That’s the real problem: Not the feeds or the medicine or the appointments.

My default is that things will go wrong. When the vet didn’t call when I expected him to after the procedure, I instantly went to believing there had to be a problem. If there wasn’t a problem, he would have called. It turned out that he started the procedure late because he wanted to give him more fluids. Simple explanation.

So I have spent the last four weeks (three weeks?) on high alert, feeling things before I need to feel them or, more often, feeling things that I don’t need to feel at all. For instance, worrying when there is nothing to worry about.

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts connected to businesses or sponsored posts.

This is what I imagined in my head when the vet suggested that I feed Beorn baby food until he could eat on his own:

I’d come downstairs and scoop him into his feeding box. Then I’d pop open a jar of baby food and take out a tiny baby spoon. He would walk up and lick the baby food off the spoon, and I would coo at him, “Does baby love his green beans?” Then a bluebird would fly through my window, land on my shoulder, and sing a happy song.

This is what actually happened when I went to feed Beorn baby food:

Josh brought home five options and a pack of baby spoons. I placed Beorn in his feeding box. I scooped up the first bite of pureed carrots and held it out to him. He sniffed it once and then backed away into the corner. I brought the spoon close to his face, and he turned his head. Finally, I emptied the baby food into a syringe and squirted a few mL at a time into his mouth. Both of us were coated in pureed carrots within seconds.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Four times per day.

I didn’t know what to put in this space because it would honestly be more about Beorn. Any brain space that is not dedicated to work is given over to Beorn because it takes 1.5 to 2 hours to get food and medication into him each day. A case in point: Beorn is next to me as I write this, having his critical care. Afterward, we’ll clean his scratches with ointment and get things ready for his next set of medications in half an hour. I feel like I’m either in a state of getting ready to do something for him, doing something for him, or cleaning up from doing something for him.

So that’s it. My non-update about why I can’t think about anything else except my sick pig, who is currently eating baby food and critical care but hasn’t eaten solid food yet. I put my finger in his mouth last night, and he tried to bite it, but I could barely feel it. His teeth are so tiny now. At least he is finally pooping and peeing after multiple days of nothing.

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Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

And now the blogs…

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But first, second, helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. To read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “What I’m Doing Along With Freaking Out” (Stirrup Queens) – thank you, Phoenix and Jess!

Okay, now my choices this week.

Finding a Different Path gave us a positive brain dump. Positive moments are personal, but I smiled at the ending: “Making this list actually has made me feel appreciably happier and lighter.” We could all use that (and blooming orchids).

Lastly, Infertile Phoenix marks her 10th survivor anniversary. She writes, “It’s officially been ten years since I stopped fertility treatments, stopped tracking my cycle and every sign and symptom, and stopped trying to conceive.” Her plans to mark the day didn’t unfold as expected, but maybe that’s the perfect way to mark the day.

The roundup to the Roundup: Once again, still waiting for Beorn to bounce back. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between March 28 – April 4) and not the blog’s main URL. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week. Read the original open thread post here.

For those playing along at home, Beorn is still not back to normal, but we identified the problem. He stopped eating this past weekend. He didn’t seem like he was in pain, but he couldn’t take anything into his mouth. And he wasn’t walking around a lot. I gave him 60 ml of critical care each day, and he dribbled a lot of it out of his mouth.

I was in a complete panic and called our normal vet Monday morning. Would he see him again because now he wasn’t eating at all? They told me to bring him in immediately. I had been up since 4:45 am, so I emailed them my notes before I left so he could read them and watch a video I made of Beorn trying to eat.

He came out 15 minutes after he took him back and apologized. He didn’t know how he (and the other guinea pig specialist) missed it, but Beorn’s teeth had grown over his tongue, trapping it. This was actually good news because it’s a common problem with a fix, and the vet only needed to sedate him (vs. put him under). I could leave him and come back for him in the afternoon, and while he would need critical care until he was back to normal, he would be able to eat again soon.

What solved the problem? The detailed notes. By seeing that day-to-day account of what happened, he knew where to look for the problem. The note about the critical care dribbling out was a red flag for his back teeth. It pays to be a little bit bonkers and journal obsessively about your pig.

It’s a testament to how much Beorn loves food because he continued to ask for it, even when he couldn’t eat it. And he sat next to it, sniffing it, even when he couldn’t move his tongue. My sweet boy is getting whatever he wants as we build up his weight, including a smörgåsbord of hay varieties and baby food.

He is my best pig boy, and I love him so much.

Do you really need anything more than the headline? This is just a warning post, in case you forgot. The news is so messed up right now that I figured it couldn’t hurt to remind you to put on your skeptical glasses while reading anything on the Internet today.

It’s the most annoying day in the world, floating in the current sea of unrealness.