Everlasting.

You would think that by this time, the fish would have either died or I would have let them go. Maybe by writing this I'm somehow jinxing it, I don't know. But at this point in time, I am so sick of them being sick. I fluctuate on my own stress level, and the emotional toll on me. It's hard for me to let the concern go and enjoy things. You wouldn't think that little bitty fish would have that big of an impact on someone's life, but they do mine and I can't seem to figure out how to put it in perspective. It might be a blessing if they just let go, rather than this everlasting death sort of thing. (sigh)

Coco, the one whose heater went wonky, went from being extremely bloated to a normal size fish last Thursday. Then, on Saturday, she somehow shrunk to a super skinny fish, so skinny that the portion of her body from her dorsal fin to her lateral line is caved in and she looks like what an Ethopian fish might look like, if there were such a thing. She was eating vigorously on Sunday, but today, Tuesday, her appetite seems to have tapered off. She still acts like she's looking for food, but when she finds it, she spits it out.

Moe isn't as bloated anymore, but she's still spitting her food out.

The last grey female that I have, the one who is in the big tank, stopped eating last Friday. She's still agressive with the other fish, but rejects food and appears to be bloated. Classic signs of preliminary parasite infection. I raised the temperature in the big tank to 84°F in the hopes that it will help her immune system eradicate the parasite.

I've been in touch with my Fish Whisperer. He continues to reassure me that if they're active, they'll continue to live. That I'm doing the right things for them because they're still alive. But ... like I wrote. I'm so tired. So tired of this underlying thread of worry and concern. It's been going on since June... four months now.

I wish they'd just either get well or ... (sigh) get well. I just wish they'd get well.