I'm finally back home from being at the barn with Freeley. When I left him, he was on the parameter of the fence to his pasture, wishing he was in with his buddies. The vet didn't want him to have any round bale today, so I left him where he could eat grass and hang out, but not eat round bale. He wasn't too happy with me b/c he really wants to be with his girls, but it's for the best. I have several people who will be at the barn today and they said they'd email me or call if he looked bad again. The way he ate breakfast and acted normal, I think he's going to be OK.
Last night while I lay in bed at Jackie's I had a serious panic attack. It all started with some news I received via email while coming home from camping on Friday. One of my clients has fired me based on several things (the agency sent me a late Friday email with the addendum of "we'll discuss this on Monday"--so great, I get to stress over this all weekend) The first thing they said was that I kept canceling her appointments with only an hour's notice and for different excuses. The truth: The client was completely inflexible and on the four occasions I needed to reschedule the appointment I was told no, just to come next week. This last week I had to cancel the appointment at the last minute, which I really, really hated to do, but I had a tree on my garage and I was desperately trying to find someone to cut a tree off my house before it sagged and took out my electrical lines. Another complaint was that I griped constantly about gas pricing. The Truth: I remember having one conversation about gas and it was b/c there was a news story about gas and we discussed it in the course of the news. They said I was only giving 30 minute massages. The Truth: I'm there from anywhere from 50-60 minutes depending on the client. There have been a couple of times that she dozed off very quickly and I made the massage a little shorter than other times, but never under 50 minutes. I know b/c the news is on and there is a clock on the TV when I'm there. They have been signing my time sheets every week, so I don't see how they can say that when they have known the time I was logging in. The last complaint was that I talked the whole time I'm there. This one is pretty goofy b/c they are constantly talking to the kid and pestering her while I'm massaging her. I even documented the chaos in my first three notes in the house, though I quit documenting it as the weeks went on...wish now I had written it every week. These folks talk to me constantly and I have been politely talking back. Sure wish now I hadn't been so polite.
I lay in bed at Jackie's last night thinking about the above and getting more indignant all the time. I worried then that everyone else didn't like me and that everyone was going to report me for being friendly, talking about the weather or gas, or being there shorter one week than another week...though in the long run, I'm typically at their houses well more than the hour I'm supposed to be. On one hand I'm nervous that they are going to be mad and fire me. OTOH I think that maybe working for one agency will be better if they do. I like the kids I see and I don't want to take a cut in my income, but I also worry now that people are making up stories or in the least they are unhappy and just not telling me, but instead just telling the agency that they don't like me without warning. Of course, this is silly b/c I haven't had any trouble with any clients since the beginning of the school year when I let a couple clients go and one mom didn't like my schedule and we couldn't come to terms. I had been feeling like I was pretty familiar with the kids and adults I see now and that I got on with them quite well, but this has disturbed my sense of security and made me question my own every move.
And, I lay in the bed thinking that if the doctor had just given me the anti-depressants I had asked for a month ago I wouldn't be having an anxiety attack over this (ok, that last part is just a joke--see me smiling?)
In the light of day, less anxiety, more irritation at this family. I hate it when I get word on a Friday that there is a problem and that there is no one to resolve it before I have to stew over it for 2 days.