If you have stumbled upon this blog, today—or you are a reader of this blog, it will in no way be inspiring. I’m trying to see some humor in the situation I have found myself in since my kitty came home from the veterinarian four days ago.
Today, is my CT scan, which is no big deal until they put the dye into my veins, and it doesn’t feel so well at first. Not painful, just slightly uncomfortable. The worst part, I have to fast. That equates to no coffee. Now, that is painful. Because I like to avoid the work rush hours, I try to make my appointments mid-morning. Another painful experience because it means no coffee.
I asked everybody–you know, God, the Universe–this last Friday to help me relax, and focus on something other than the wait for the results to come in. I found myself praying on the toilet for a positive outcome–it’s the scan I’m referring to–and sorry if that’s too much information, but I had to chuckle when I found myself with my hands clasped together in intense prayer, on the toilet. I prayed for it to please be a clean scan, and strength if it wasn’t.
My kitty won’t eat. Cats can’t go without food for more than a couple of days before it starts to affect the liver. Every time I have lure him from under the bed, I pet him and give him bunch of loves, but it also includes a dosage of medication. He acts as if I am killing him. He is about the size of a calf, so in essence, it’s like calf wrestling.
This is stressing me out. He is a long-haired floofy thing, and now smells like urine. I have been chopping away at his hair to remove most of the floof and mats. I want to give him a bath when he feels better. Yes, I will have to wrestle him to have a bath, something I’m not looking forward to. According to the vet, the problem he is having had been found to be aggravated by environmental stress. Yep, that Grandpuppy is doing a number on him, so he’s in lock down in one of the vacant bedrooms, that stinks bad. Very bad.
Scrawny Old Cat has to be given little bits of food throughout the day. Over feeding him results in barfing. While I have finally seemed to find the magic medicine to clear Chronic Snotty Nosed Cat from her – um – over abundance of snot, she also has to eat small meals throughout the day, because that’s how she eats. When she leaves food, Rotund Grandkitty scarfs what’s left. Rotund Grandkitty doesn’t need more food, he has this tiny little head, huge body, and sticks for legs. He’s very awkward looking.
Father’s Day dinner was a slight fiasco. I don’t even want to go into the details of the day. The only thing I can say is that my husband is a very, very tolerant person. He has lost patience with the Vampires in The Basement. One of them actually got a day job, but is trying to keep up with the life of a vampire. What’s bothering my husband isn’t their lifestyle so to speak, it is their sense of entitlement and manipulation of our kindness. The magma is starting to boil in the belly of my very tolerant husband. It’s only a matter of time before he blows.
To top it all off, The Wee One decided to put in a small air conditioning unit in his apartment window. I guess the a/c wasn’t working in his apartment. The management did an onsite inspection, and told him he had until Monday to remove the unit, or he will be evicted. Wrong thing to do if a person wants to be a renter again. He is having another inspection today.
So….as with every time inspections are being performed in his apartment, Grandpuppy, and his Grandkitty have to stay the night.
Grandpuppy is an expert at breaking a tackle when she has something in her mouth she isn’t supposed to. She’s better than any football player I’ve ever seen. Most of our dog toys are gutless, but she somehow seems to find one with innards. Before she gobbles it down, I have to catch her. The game is on. Had to run around after her twice this morning.
Did I mention that I can’t have coffee? ugh.
I’m waiting for the veterinarian to call before I leave for my CT scan. This may mean another stressful trip for my cat back to the place of animal torture. What made me feel extremely bad? I had pain medication to give to him, and didn’t discover it until Sunday. No wonder I can’t get him to come from under the bed. A king bed–where he gets in the middle–out of reach–the bed that is too heavy for me to move to capture him.
And….the sister of a long time friend of mine is in town, and would like to meet and chat. She is in the city. THE CITY! Actually, near the airport part of the city, which is worse! It doesn’t appear that I will have much time to do that anyway. I’m not sure I have the time to do the two hour round trip, as well as spend some time with her. Even though it would be something to take my mind off the scan results, I’m at a pretty high stress/anxiety level, and it doesn’t sound like fun. Actually, I don’t even think I can carry on a sensible conversation at the moment.
Hiding in a closet with a bottle of gin sounds kind of like fun. Actually, it would have to be the bathroom, so that I wouldn’t have to leave after the consumption of all the gin. But, of course, that would never happen to a person who is extremely anxious over her health. What would that do to the liver? Gah!
Well, I have to go and see if the Grandpuppy has dug her way under the fence, or has made it to China.
I only have three more hours until I can have coffee!