It's Always Something
So, I guess today is a holiday. Holidays--especially Monday holidays--are just regular work days for me due to my schedule. I have done shift-work for so long (basically my whole adult life) that only the pattern of everyone else's activities mark today as a holiday.
Yesterday, we were busy--a confluence of fine weather and the last holiday of summer brought many pilots out to enjoy the day. I got off work at five and went straight home to check on Toby-John. I was concerned about him because he didn't eat much Saturday and he is losing weight.
There wasn't any improvement. He had drank a small amount of water but wasn't interested in food. I coaxed a small amount of baby food into him then went about my chores cleaning the cat boxes. I was tempted to call the vet clinic and talk to the vet on call about Toby--it is a long way to Tuesday from Sunday if you are a diabetic cat who isn't eating.
Out in the shop, I got a surprise. Lucy greeted me from her usual perch above the freezer and as I responded by rubbing her cheek, I noticed she had acquired a large, round swelling on one side of her face. In our defense, Lucy is a round-faced cat with full cheeks, so the swelling--despite it's size--is only barely apparent to the naked eye.
I felt the bump--it didn't seem to be an abcess as there was no discernable wound. When I squeezed it gently, a bit of saliva dripped from Lucy's mouth, so it is possibly some sort of salivary gland problem. I have all manner of fears. Well, one main one--malignancy. It was just a year ago that Frieda had to have her tail shortened due to a fast-growing lump. This location is much more problematic if we are dealing with a cancer. On the plus side, Lucy seems as painfree and chipper as always.
Anyway, the discovery freaked me enough that I called the vet's emergency number and left a message.
Dots called back within ten minutes. I explained my concerns about Toby's listlessness and loss of appetite and the discovery on Lucy. She felt that Lucy was less critical than Toby and we decided I should meet her at the clinic with him in fifteen minutes.
It was about this time that I looked down and decided I really needed to change my T-shirt. You see, I'd changed from my going-to-work clothes into my working-around-the-house clothes when I had gotten home, but couldn't find a handy top. So, I grabbed one of Denny's clean T-shirts that was lying on the back of the couch and shrugged into it. Only *this* was his "Fuck" T-shirt--all over the front and back was written "Fuck" this-n-that ("Fuck Football," "Fuck Television," "Fuck Disco," "Fuck the IRS"...you get the idea. Hey--we didn't buy it; it was a gift.) That might be suitable for cleaning litterboxes but I didn't think it was appropriate for a emergency visit to the vet clinic. So I scrambled back upstairs and found a used-but-clean-enough T-shirt of my own to wear.
I still made it to the vet clinic in twelve minutes. When Dots pulled up, I was sitting on the steps, Toby in my lap, basking in the evening sunshine.
I feel sometimes like a hypochondriac on my cats' behalf and felt bad about calling Dots away from her family on a Sunday evening but once we had Toby on the exam table, her concern told me I had been right in worrying about him. Although the wound on his leg had healed on the surface, there was a pocket of infection inside the leg that was swollen and causing him pain. Dots lanced the wound and shaved the area around it, getting some blood and a small amount of pus. Because of the location, she didn't want to cut into the foot willy-nilly, so we were left with waiting for the infection to force itself out the opening she provided to relieve the pressure. She gave Toby some pain medication and a new, stronger antibiotic. I held him while she bandaged his foot. He should feel important now with an impressive red bandage from ankle to toe. She also sent us home with a feline electrolyte solution to help replenish our depleted fellow.
We go back Tuesday morning to have the bandage and Toby checked again. I scheduled Lucy in at that time as well. I have been spending all my days off at the vet's lately. It seems it's always something.
Anyway, we went back home and by the time I finished cleaning the cat boxes, it was after eight. I had a couple of pork chops thawed out but didn't feel like cooking. Since I have had a hankering for a pizza for a while--a pizza with feta cheese--I succumbed to temptation and called Starvin' Marvin's. I ordered their Great White (a three-cheese pizza) with extra pepperoni and sausage. By the time I had finished feeding the cats, it was time to head once more into town to pick up my dinner.
When I got back home, I coaxed a bit of food and water and electrolytes into Toby, ate three slices of pizza, and went to bed.
Yeah...right.
Last night was my short night--having to be to work this morning by five-thirty, a time that never has come easily for me. The night was made shorter by me being up and down every couple of hours to check on Toby-John and drink some water.
Such a sleep pattern disrupts dreams, so I only recall the last one. I was trying to close the bedroom window and it was coming loose from the side of the house. From the window,I could see a workman below--Denny had a crew coming in to do some rennovations. So I went downstairs to tell him about the window and get his help in fixing it. I could hear him arguing as I went downstairs--arguing with a woman. It was apparent they were in the process of breaking up. I tactfully waiting for a break in the action then went out to the work area and asked for his help. I was a bit uncomfortable when he came upstairs to the bedroom with me--from what I had seen of the argument, he had been on the verge of physical violence--not a person to upset and he was obviously emotionally raw from the conflict.
So, no sooner are we upstairs than he starts hitting on me in a subtle way--asking me what time I got off work and if I ever got off shift early. I lied and said no. He was disappointed because someone had given him tickets to some sporting event in Fairbanks (which apparently is just down the road in dreamland...) I told him as gently as I could that even if I were free in the afternoon, I couldn't go. I showed him my ring and reminded him that I was married (to the guy who had hired him, even!) but thanked him for his offer. That seemed to satisfy him, and he went about making repairs to the window.
I am becoming quite the femme-fatale...at least in my dreams.
Yesterday, we were busy--a confluence of fine weather and the last holiday of summer brought many pilots out to enjoy the day. I got off work at five and went straight home to check on Toby-John. I was concerned about him because he didn't eat much Saturday and he is losing weight.
There wasn't any improvement. He had drank a small amount of water but wasn't interested in food. I coaxed a small amount of baby food into him then went about my chores cleaning the cat boxes. I was tempted to call the vet clinic and talk to the vet on call about Toby--it is a long way to Tuesday from Sunday if you are a diabetic cat who isn't eating.
Out in the shop, I got a surprise. Lucy greeted me from her usual perch above the freezer and as I responded by rubbing her cheek, I noticed she had acquired a large, round swelling on one side of her face. In our defense, Lucy is a round-faced cat with full cheeks, so the swelling--despite it's size--is only barely apparent to the naked eye.
I felt the bump--it didn't seem to be an abcess as there was no discernable wound. When I squeezed it gently, a bit of saliva dripped from Lucy's mouth, so it is possibly some sort of salivary gland problem. I have all manner of fears. Well, one main one--malignancy. It was just a year ago that Frieda had to have her tail shortened due to a fast-growing lump. This location is much more problematic if we are dealing with a cancer. On the plus side, Lucy seems as painfree and chipper as always.
Anyway, the discovery freaked me enough that I called the vet's emergency number and left a message.
Dots called back within ten minutes. I explained my concerns about Toby's listlessness and loss of appetite and the discovery on Lucy. She felt that Lucy was less critical than Toby and we decided I should meet her at the clinic with him in fifteen minutes.
It was about this time that I looked down and decided I really needed to change my T-shirt. You see, I'd changed from my going-to-work clothes into my working-around-the-house clothes when I had gotten home, but couldn't find a handy top. So, I grabbed one of Denny's clean T-shirts that was lying on the back of the couch and shrugged into it. Only *this* was his "Fuck" T-shirt--all over the front and back was written "Fuck" this-n-that ("Fuck Football," "Fuck Television," "Fuck Disco," "Fuck the IRS"...you get the idea. Hey--we didn't buy it; it was a gift.) That might be suitable for cleaning litterboxes but I didn't think it was appropriate for a emergency visit to the vet clinic. So I scrambled back upstairs and found a used-but-clean-enough T-shirt of my own to wear.
I still made it to the vet clinic in twelve minutes. When Dots pulled up, I was sitting on the steps, Toby in my lap, basking in the evening sunshine.
I feel sometimes like a hypochondriac on my cats' behalf and felt bad about calling Dots away from her family on a Sunday evening but once we had Toby on the exam table, her concern told me I had been right in worrying about him. Although the wound on his leg had healed on the surface, there was a pocket of infection inside the leg that was swollen and causing him pain. Dots lanced the wound and shaved the area around it, getting some blood and a small amount of pus. Because of the location, she didn't want to cut into the foot willy-nilly, so we were left with waiting for the infection to force itself out the opening she provided to relieve the pressure. She gave Toby some pain medication and a new, stronger antibiotic. I held him while she bandaged his foot. He should feel important now with an impressive red bandage from ankle to toe. She also sent us home with a feline electrolyte solution to help replenish our depleted fellow.
We go back Tuesday morning to have the bandage and Toby checked again. I scheduled Lucy in at that time as well. I have been spending all my days off at the vet's lately. It seems it's always something.
Anyway, we went back home and by the time I finished cleaning the cat boxes, it was after eight. I had a couple of pork chops thawed out but didn't feel like cooking. Since I have had a hankering for a pizza for a while--a pizza with feta cheese--I succumbed to temptation and called Starvin' Marvin's. I ordered their Great White (a three-cheese pizza) with extra pepperoni and sausage. By the time I had finished feeding the cats, it was time to head once more into town to pick up my dinner.
When I got back home, I coaxed a bit of food and water and electrolytes into Toby, ate three slices of pizza, and went to bed.
Yeah...right.
Last night was my short night--having to be to work this morning by five-thirty, a time that never has come easily for me. The night was made shorter by me being up and down every couple of hours to check on Toby-John and drink some water.
Such a sleep pattern disrupts dreams, so I only recall the last one. I was trying to close the bedroom window and it was coming loose from the side of the house. From the window,I could see a workman below--Denny had a crew coming in to do some rennovations. So I went downstairs to tell him about the window and get his help in fixing it. I could hear him arguing as I went downstairs--arguing with a woman. It was apparent they were in the process of breaking up. I tactfully waiting for a break in the action then went out to the work area and asked for his help. I was a bit uncomfortable when he came upstairs to the bedroom with me--from what I had seen of the argument, he had been on the verge of physical violence--not a person to upset and he was obviously emotionally raw from the conflict.
So, no sooner are we upstairs than he starts hitting on me in a subtle way--asking me what time I got off work and if I ever got off shift early. I lied and said no. He was disappointed because someone had given him tickets to some sporting event in Fairbanks (which apparently is just down the road in dreamland...) I told him as gently as I could that even if I were free in the afternoon, I couldn't go. I showed him my ring and reminded him that I was married (to the guy who had hired him, even!) but thanked him for his offer. That seemed to satisfy him, and he went about making repairs to the window.
I am becoming quite the femme-fatale...at least in my dreams.
