100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 38

Breakfast:  Eggs, bacon
Lunch: Green pepper, cottage cheese
Dinner:  Leftover beef, horseradish in mayonnaise, green tea ice cream, glass of wine

I managed to choke down breakfast, but I am not using the bacon up before it goes bad.  I cooked it anyway, but it tasted just wrong enough to get tossed.  Lunch was supposed to be light and quick so that I could dash out between loads of laundry to fetch some things I needed for work tomorrow.

That did not work out because as I was beginning to brush my teeth, Lili came strolling by and yelled for me to open my door and when I did, she jumped up on the bed and yelled at me some more, so I laid down to pet her and the next thing I knew, it was after 4:30 and I just, barely, made it to the bakery to buy cookies for my second anniversary at work.  That is my main volunteer job and it is important enough to me to mark the occasion somehow.  I should have made something, but if I cannot cook every meal, then there certainly is not any energy to make something extra.  So, I bought them from a wonderful bakery and I am happy, the recipients will be happy and we all will be thrilled that I did not attempt to make something and end up giving everyone tummy distress.  It is always a good day when no one is upset with you over food poisoning, you know?

By the time I ran my errands, I was starved, but I did not buy any groceries that could be eaten on the way home, and did not drive-through anywhere.  I came home and prepared my lunch for tomorrow and then sliced some of the beef and dunked it into the horseradish/mayo.  There was a wee bit of ice cream left in the freezer, so I made sure that it did not go to waste. smiley: tongue

Today was not enough calories, which I know even though I am not counting them.  The ice cream helped, but it is not exactly the kind of nutrition or calories that I would prefer to eat.  I should be fine over the weekend, when I am away from home, because I bought a jar of ground-peanuts-only peanut butter, and some really healthy crackers that are probably icky, but will be fine with the peanut butter.  I also have water to take along, apples and a small carton of yogurt.  If I am careful and proactive about the food we will be served, I should be fine.  If not, then it is no greater a fail than the ones I have been having lately.

I did my stuff-for-work shopping at Walmart and whilst I was looking for some cute trim to tart up my new flip flops, a woman asked me how to make maroon colored paint.  What she wanted to do was not possible, mostly because it involves a great deal of text to be painted on T-shirts for her son's graduation on Saturday.  We discussed lots of options, stamping, using fabric paints in the bottles with the thin/pointy tops, even throwing herself on the mercy of a place that does graphics and printing, and I finally asked if she had access to a computer, an ink jet printer and the Internet.

She has a friend who might be able to help her, so I suggested she talk to her friend and find out if she had the time to help her create a nice design that could be printed on those iron-on transfer sheets that you can use in your computer printer.  I am going to do a few designs and then have her come to where I work tomorrow and I will e-mail them to her friend, who can then print them and someone can iron them onto the shirts.

I checked with work, and my schedule is full of clients, but I can squeeze her in at the end of the day, before knitting club.  Frankly, I wish that I had run into her last week; there would have been plenty of time to do all of this, but I am out of town on Thursday, part of Friday and the entire weekend.

I do not know why, but I am asked for help in stores all the time.  Even in the market where I am pushing a cart and noodling around looking at things.  I must just look like an employee wherever I go.  I do not shop in many different places, so usually know where most things are and I am happy to help.  When I cannot, I do know where to direct someone.

Which reminds me of a funny encounter sometime during the holiday period last year.  I was shopping at a fabric and craft store and a woman asked me to help her find some specialized sewing notions.  Clearly, she did not see the cart, my cart between us or notice that it contained my crap as well as my really big, like humongous, purse.  Nor did she notice that I was not wearing the uniform shirt that employees wear and that I was, instead, wearing my coat and scarf.

When I told that I was sorry, that I was not familiar with the brand of the items, and that I was not an employee there, but that she could find help by going over three aisles and asking the person who runs that department, she was incensed enough to point her finger and tell me that she was a very busy person, but she was going to make sure to stop and tell the manager that he should hire better people than me.

I really wanted to follow her and observe her scolding the manager about me, but I was afraid to upset her more, so I just re-joined my shopping friend and told her about it.  She agreed, that they really should have better employees than me. smiley: laugh

I arrived home too late to do more laundry, so it will have to wait until next Tuesday, which is the only day that I can use the equipment.  Long story, sad story, although I do come out looking quite good, but that would still be another story, yes?

I watched, well, mostly listened (although that was not helpful in that the dialogue was mostly in Portuguese...I think), to a film about Vik Muniz.  Very inspiring and making me want to get back to my own found-objects work.  I demurred with that gallery owner recently, although I know that I can renew that conversation any time I like.  I was even thinking about doing a series of divestment works where I would incorporate some of the stuff that needs to go, but for which I am too attached.  Hmmmm, I wonder how you attach a loom to a canvas?  Or, maybe I could just tart up the loom and let it speak for itself.

Whatever work I decide to do, if I decide anything, it will be what it is supposed to be.  Painting, sculpting and combining are hard work, but there are those crystalline moments when it seems as though I am channeling something.  So lovely to feel that, being caught up in the energy of the work, carried along, manifesting the crap out of every internally held/captured emotion.

I sometimes think that being fucked over by that gallery guy back in February is not, might not be the whole reason why I am not working in the studio.  Maybe I am wary of releasing the bad stuff in my life because I know that even more bad stuff will happen around here to take it's place.  This sounds supremely stupid, but it feels like when I am packed full of sadness, pain and worry, fear and all the rest, that there is no more room for more of the same and that the new stuff will sort of roll off of me because there is not any place to put any more of it.  Like I said, stupid, simply does not work like that.

Today's GP is more optimistic.  It deserves a real and true name, but it is only Smile 1.  Maybe that is because I am hopeful for more.  Maybe.  You know?

And, because Lili was in here today, there is also a sketch of her.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 14

Breakfast:  Eggs, bacon, coffee, many, many cups
Lunch:  Pho, half a bowl, half of a spring roll
Snack:  Cake on the drive home
Dinner:  Rest of the pho, rest of the spring rolls, more cake

Holy crap, it is now two weeks since I decided, reluctantly, to become a healthier person.  I hope that this is not a pattern, a continuing two-week of pretty dam good and then a backslide where the cake is concerned.  But, it is not my fault.

Really.  After breakfast and taking my friend on her errands, which I enjoyed very much, finding a few lovely craft materials things for myself and my mentee and the grandbabies.  Then, I dropped her at home and went for pho.  The older man there took my order and encouraged me to try a spring roll with pork.  It was very good and I think that I might ask for more help from him sometime.

I did have a moment today, though.  At breakfast, the errand friend needed change for a ten dollar bill.  I gave it to her in singles and a dollar's worth of change.  Cool, yes?  Then, I went to pay my bill for lunch and the ten spot was nowhere to be found.  I had left it on the table at the breakfast place.  With the tip I had already left, our lovely (truly, I like her very much) waitperson received a 150% tip today, just from me.

I was like totally freaked for a minute or two and then realized that it was likely the least expensive lesson I have ever learned.  It was offset by the mind-blowing sale that I got for a tiny, wooden barn and animals that I bought for our newest grand-nephew.  It was on sale for 50% off and then for another 75% off of the sale price because it was damaged.  I have to replace the screws in the hinges of one of the doors and two of the animals are missing, although the tractor was still there.  My mind is still blown over that one.

Where was I?  Lunch.  After, I walked to the Asian market next door and shopped for treats for my daughter and the boys, including daddy in that count, some herbs and a whole roasted duck.  You can choose your own duck from the pile of carcasses in the case, but I let the guy do it and he then hacks it to pieces and puts it into two, large carry-out boxes.  He does not give me the head, but that is fine.  Having my dinner looking back at me, bill and all, makes it impossible to disconnect myself from that lovely, rich, meaty goodness and the abrupt ending of the ducky's life.  He sure is delicious, though.

So.  The cake.  In this market you have to pay for the duck separately, as it is in the deli section.  No problem, except that today the corner of the place was packed, and I mean really, seriously packed, with sweets.  Asian sweets are not like those in any other part of the world.  They are made from sugar, of course, but also a stunning variety of starches, beans, rice and who knows what else.

I chose a wedge of this yellow cake that seemed strangely resilient in it's Styrofoam  and cellophane package.  Then, there were these rice things and those bean things and before I knew it, there were four small packages of sweets joining the hacked-up meat pieces, formerly known as ducky.

I sampled each one in the car on the way home.  The first taste is almost always the best, no matter what something is, and these were no exception.  Except for the cake.  Goodness.  And goodness does describe it.  It is moist.  It tastes of egg and not too much sugar.  It is sort of the airy, chewy texture of angel food cake, but more dense.  Lovely.  Charley and I have been snacking on it all evening.

I never should have bought it.  I will not buy it again.  I should not be eating it, but I am and the rest will be put out for the critters in the morning, along with the other sweets.  All of them, the sweets, cost only $6, so added to the lost $10, not a completely horrible day of wasted money, especially when I remember the huge meat waste I had a month or two ago.  Shudder.  That was shameful, but today's lapse is just a lapse.  Gonna move on.

I tried the new decongestants last night and have felt a little better all day.  Still not using my cane, and using less pain meds.  I bought fiber today and my colon is very happy.  It is a good day when your colon is not sad.  I am personally less sad today because I managed to get over the fact that my friend sort of stole my place to live in town.  At least I think that I am over it.  At this moment I no longer feel the need to stop helping at the gallery and I will try my best to not be upset and all grudge-holding with him when we next meet, which will be Friday.  Yeah, I am pretty sure that I am not upset about it anymore.  Pretty sure.  Maybe I do need a little more time to grieve the loss of that safe place, but I do not plan on using more than a few days for being sad about it.  Yeah, I can do that. No, he did not sort of steal it, he wrangled, pushed and punched my sorry ass right out of that place.  Bastard.  O.K., I am fine now.  Yeah.  I am, but that felt good.  Smiling now.

Tomorrow is back on the healthy wagon.  No cake for anyone.  I have some sewing that I would like to do and I promised to make some doll clothing patterns for a friend and, oh, there looks like there will be time for a nap in the early afternoon, altogether a fine prospect for a Sunday. 

On Monday I call the travel place and plan another short trip or two for the summer and I still have to join WW.  I am ditching the whole getting a new checking account and debit card thing and opting for paying the higher week-at-a-time fee for each week that I go there.  Maybe the extra $3.88 each time will help me value it more and make better use of the program.  That is an easier solution to the other stuff, and it is certainly much better than forgetting to keep enough money in that extra account so that I do not get hit with overdraft fees.  Now, that would seriously amp up my cranky-factor.

So, tonight's GP is one that makes me laugh.  A lot.  It is named Come here often? and there are several interpretations of what this depicts.

It might be:

1. Two of the microbes/germs/bacteria/bugs in my ailing body having a conversation whilst my white blood cells wander around taking long breaks, getting hyped on coffee and angsting about the meaning of life instead of doing their jobs.
2. A couple of citizens of other planetary systems, meeting out at Area 51, in honor of the couple of new books about the place.
3. Two Eastern European countries, redistricted by the machinations of their inbred leadership.
4. Two people from around here, transformed by the Rapture (or is it Raptor, I cannot ever remember),  making connections with the other left-behinds.
5. A pair of new lifeforms found in my refrigerator.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 7

Goodness.  A week.

I am better today.  Feeling more sick, but with a greatly improved outlook.  Maybe a better attitude, as well, not sure.  But, more hopeful, at any rate.

Breakfast:  2 eggs, over easy; 3 strips of well-done, although not too crisp, bacon, fat blotted off; tiny bowl of fruit, small cubes of cantaloupe, watermelon, 2 slices of some kind of red apple, not the crispy kind and two red grapes.
Lunch:  Pho, with the works, flank, brisket, tendon and tripe; 3 spring rolls; can of diet coke.
Dinner: The spring rolls leftover from lunch.
Lots of water.

Today was morning coffee with my friends.  It began as coffee and maybe someone would have a roll or a muffing or toast or something like that, but it has morphed into actual breakfast.  So, breakfast was at a restaurant, the second time we have been there.

The group likes to try new places.  Some are worth a return visit, some not.  This place, today, is kind of weird.  The staff runs hot and cold and you would think that you could not tell such a thing from only two visits, but apparently if the staff is just weird enough, you really can tell, even on the first visit.

The first time there, I was the first to arrive.  Another woman and I live way south of everyone else, so we get to drive the longest distance.  We live on opposite sides of the county and cannot ride together, but we are always the first to get wherever we are going.  So, I get there and the hostess welcomes me and asks something like how can she help me and I reply that I will be dining with five friends.  She stares at me.  She looks down at her desk/counter.  She looks back up at me and asks, "Do you mean now?"  I mumbled something like, "Ummm, yes."  However, in my head I was saying, "Nah, I was thinking sometime in August, maybe on a Thursday.  And, maybe you could pick me up, because this is a heck of a long way to drive." 

Anyway, she huffed and puffed and tried to blow my house down, but my house was in another county and she failed, which did nothing to improve her mood.  She did, however, lead me to a table that would accommodate five people and said to let her know if all six of us showed up and she would find another chair for us.

Today was slightly better, but just as amusing.  So, anyway, I had this great, hardly carby breakfast and then went shopping for stuff to do with my mentee and stopped in for fat quarters and some other fabric at a friend's store.

Then, I went for pho.  Oh, man, I love that stuff.  A huge bowl of steaming broth that cooks the meats and the extras, pure and unadulterated bliss.  Comfort food of the highest order.  The noodle shop I visited today (one of three that are my favorites) tosses in a couple of perfectly crafted meatballs, fine textured, strangely spiced.  Ahhhh.  Just one more reason to visit Vietnam.

It was too long a time walking and doing and looking and talking to my friend.  She sent me home with a Michael Cox book; I think it is Glass in Time, but I cannot really remember.  I took the book and myself to bed, got 21 pages read, then the drowsing cat beside me drew me into my own nap.  Waking, I felt much better, still do.

Feeling too ill to do much of anything useful, I checked all the computer stuff and one was a link to the Peace Pilgrim.  I read the article Steps Toward Inner Peace.  You know how things come into life, awareness, just when you need them?  This was one of those occasions for me. 

One area with which I have been struggling is one of the older (than me, even!) women for whom I provide social contact.  Actually, I consider her a friend, but that is how our relationship began, gosh, maybe eight years ago.  Wow.  Anyway, she has her own special personality and I have been feeling drained and weary the past dozen or so times I have taken her out.  She does have another friend, and is close to her family, even though they live far away.  They talk on the on the phone and her sons are always sending her photos via their cellphone.

But, I am the one who takes her for most of her shopping, particularly to the mall.  This mall is a near-hour drive from here and the days we do that are long, often ten or twelve hours.  It is great and we have a good time, but the days are just too long and I am guessing that it is because I have not been feeling well for a long time.  I feel stressed just thinking about how a simple lunch turns into an eight hour ordeal. 

I mean, how selfish can I possibly be?  Yeah, that selfish.  However, reading that article, well, it was like a reinforcement of all of the stuff that is important to me, stuff that I have not been practicing very effectively.  Anyway, I called my friend and had the nicest, and shortest, conversation I think that we have ever had, at least since the early days of our friendship.  I had the opportunity to be exactly what she needed.  Man, that feels nice.  We can go to lunch, walking in the mall and get her some groceries tomorrow without me feeling all ashamed of myself.

I am hungry, so I will have a couple of snap pea pods and go to bed, to read and more dozing with the kitty.

I even felt well enough for more guilty pleasure:

And, what the hell is wrong with the label function?

Simple thoughts

McDonald's will not serve you water.  They have water, they just will not let you have any.

The robins thought it was safe enough to come back north.  I am guessing that the past 2 1/2 days of snow and freezing temperatures were not on this year's schedule.  I know that it was not on the rhubarb's schedule.

Yesterday was A's birthday.  His friend, M, from school, was cute, funny and a handful.  His parents are sure to age prematurely.  I hope they have factored that into their life plan.  I really do.  My C was a handful and I never thought to plan ahead.

I am weary of sitting here at McDonald's, and my soon to be accomplished return to the car repair place seem to be almost more than I can handle.  Last night, when my sore throat, sore glands, sore sinuses and sore head were making sleep impossible, I begged to not be sick again.  Please, I implore you, body, do not be sick.  I do not have time to be sick.  More importantly, I do not have the heart to keep getting sick.  I accept a crappy immune system and seriously impaired mucus membranes.  I do.

Last night, the prospect of being ill again, so soon, only since the end of January, for cryingoutloud, was discouraging enough to have me thinking about an overdose of something.  That I do not have anything capable of producing an overdose seemed to not be an obstacle last night.  Today, the daylight, gloomy as it is, allows me to see the flaws in that plan.

I mean, you can no longer overdose on acetaminophen any more.  At best, you will just lose a leg and the final shreds of respect that your family holds for you.  If you have any doubts, just ask S.

When you are visiting your daughter and her family for three months, just following Christmas, it is not in your best interest to precede your departure to her house with a week's worth of fighting. 

If you do, on the two days when you have your catarracts removed, your daughter will refuse to hire someone to come in and be with you whilst everyone else in the household is at work or school, and she will leave you to spend the remainder of each surgery day in a restaurant.

You will have money for lunch and coffee and, maybe, cake, but you will not be able to see well enough to find your way to the restroom.  You and your ancient bladder will have to rely on the kindness of strangers to help you pee.  This one is not about me.

It is important, if not actually essential, to avoid laughing out loud when two men in very expensive suits walk into the McDonald's (where you are waiting whilst your car is being repaired next door) and one of them asks the counter clerk, "So, what's good today?" and then stands there and stares at her until she begins to recite the menu, which is posted on the wall behind her.

Especially when that man orders for the other man, and they end up with fries, one Big Mac (which they split), two soft drinks and a dipped cone.  Lordy.

Especially when he turns and you see that it is your old boss.  I mean, you heard his voice every day, for years.  Failing to recognize him sooner must be your heart, trying to protect your psyche from those memories.

This simple girl is taking her prescription cough medicine, her antihistamines, her nose goo, her pain meds, her mentholated chest rub, her snugly blankie, her book, a couple of cats, her simple thoughts and going to bed.

Frequencies

It is impossible to avoid finding pleasure in a day.  Sometime I have to look for it, on occasion it is necessary to wrestle it out of the mess that a day can be.  So, I should be writing here more often.

I do not because I am weak and the end of the day finds me too exhausted from all of the things that are not pleasurable.  Still, I should make the effort.

Yesterday found me without any scheduled clients.  In itself, it is a cause for unbounded joy, because it means that I have an entire day to catch up on all of the things that never seem to get finished in a normal day.  So, yeah, that was really great.  I did have two short, impromptu meetings with other staff, but I managed to bring everything up to speed, including the forum site that I created for clients. 

The two previous weeks were full of clients, and they were all, with a single exception, my most favorite type.  They come in, do the work and pull together all of the adjunct work they need to do. 

Ah, my exception.  He is the man who rarely shows up, often sleeps/dozes, and is very resistant to doing his own work.  We have established that he does not have any reading or behavioral deficits, and my best guess is that he really does not embrace forward movement in his life right now.  When he shows up, we work; when he stays home, I am able to take walk-ins and do more catch-up stuff.  My supervisor believes that I should have fired him as a client long ago, but, truth be told, I kind of look forward to what he will do next.  He is also a bit dramatic, and wails that if he forgets his appointments that I will be mad at him.  Frankly, I find him amusing, but if that is what he needs to feel about it, then that is just fine.  He missed his appointment this week.  I am looking forward to the next installment.

What else.  I am still infusing hydration liquids into a cat with kidney failure.  She is doing well and is so sweet about allowing me to poke her with a huge needle and then fill the space above her shoulders with cooler than body temperature liquid.  She tolerates the entire procedure and then takes a step or two away from me, plops down and sits and rests whilst I put all of the equipment away.  Her owner is calming down a bit and the two of them are often the sweetest part of my week.

I received a call this morning from the social service agency for which I sometimes volunteer.  One of my old clients has been diagnosed with cancer and I am taking her to an out of town appointment tomorrow.  I think that I am also going to be designated as her person qualified to accompany her and take notes during her doctor visits.  I am saddened by her illness, but thrilled to be involved with her again.  If she is strong enough, I will offer to take her to lunch before returning her to her home.

The kitties are fine, although C seems to be having trouble with his colon again and is vomiting a fair amount.  Sad for the process of his health, but also because it means that he cannot sleep in my room whenever he likes.  I have no desire to clean up the effluence from either end of that wonderful guy, so he must stay on the wrong side of that door.  It means that both cats cannot go there, and that makes for sadness for all of us.

I am trying to stay upbeat here, but I had an issue with my good, as in decent vision, eye last week.  It has not resolved and there is not explanation of the cause or how to fix or prevent the bastardly issue.  So, I am concentrating on enjoying the vision that I have now and not stressing about something which is unknown and might not fully manifest anyway. 

I am weary of my weight, as in huge body, and am trying to move in the direction of doing something about it.  I have good intentions, really and truly I do.  Moving from intention, desire and need is difficult for me.  It is as though I do not feel deserving of a healthy life.  It is like I deserve to have a sad body to match my sad life.  I cannot control or really even affect the life part, but I could and can do something about my physical aspect.  Why is this so hard and why does it make me weep.  I have to move beyond this barrier.  If I do not, I will die long before I want or need.

Feeding yourself

I should be in bed, but I just have to write about my friend.

He and his mother used to have a really cool, down home, spirit satisfying, soul food restaurant.  Here in the US that means lots of honest Southern cuisine.  But, you know how those things go.  Even though they had plenty of business, the work became overwhelming for the two of them, especially his mother who was no longer a f\girl with youthful energies.

So, they finally closed the restaurant, but they never gave up on having the energy to try it again sometime.

So, anyway, my friend was at a local veteran's center.  They have a bar, meeting rooms where vets come to play cards, have bar snacks and shoot the shit, which is a good thing, by the way.

One day he happened to wander down a hallway and see a fully equipped kitchen, with an adjoining dining room, albeit a little on the small size, both the kitchen and dining room.

Since you cannot smoke indoors anymore, he continued on his way outside to have his way with a cigarette and got to talking with another smoker.  He mentioned the kitchen and asked if the other guy knew how or when it was last used.  Turns out the other vet was on some kind of board at the center.  My friend told me, but I have forgotten the details.  Anyway, they used to have Friday night fish fry dinners there, but it did not work out, mostly because the previous guy was kind of a flake and the food was not so great either.

My friend and I have been noodling around with ideas for a community center that he wants to open, and since that sort of thing is both in my background and an adjunct to the self-employment support and services I provide to my clients, between the two of us, well, we had made forward movement on his ideal plans.

But, when this opportunity presented itself to get back into a kitchen post-haste, he arranged for a meeting with whomever is in charge there (again, he told me, but I have forgotten...huge surprise) and developed a plan for resuming those Friday night dinners.  He shared all of his ideas, but, frankly, he was so informed about what is needed for having a restaurant, even a part time one, that I was of little extra help to him.  He says otherwise, but he is wrong.

That was a month ago.  Tonight was their first dinner.  Actually, it started late this morning with a lunch menu, but the full dinner menu started this evening.

To say that it was great is an understatement.  You could tell that it was the first time for all of those people to be working together, but there was barely a misstep.  There was the kitchen door that kept self-locking and the really old guy at the table next to me who managed to unscrew the top from the tartar sauce container and dump most of the contents on his lap and cap and then proceeded to pick up the container's top from the floor and screw it back on.  No worries, because I told the wait person and she took care of it.

There were two tiny issues with the serving temperature of my dinner, but we will discuss that later when we meet to recap my experience.  On the whole, it was outstanding food, efficient and friendly service, a pleasant environment and he really scored a huge win on his first day there.

Despite the fact that I, a very healthy eater, brought home half of my dinner, he assured me that he really is making sufficient money on the huge portions they are serving.  Just another proof of his dedication to fabulous food at a fair price.  I can hardly wait to surprise the kitties with pollack and catfish for din-din tomorrow when I get home from the quilt show.

I am looking forward to next week for the chance to try another item from the menu.  I may never cook another Friday night dinner for myself.  Yum.

Mah-ah-ah-ahmmmmm...Please!

Seriously.

Just go and find something useful to do.

Really.

Go away.

The sweetest things

I just walked past my bedroom and through the open door I saw Charlie sleeping on my bed.  I am guessing that Lili is in there somewhere, too.  I rarely allow the cats in my bedroom because their dander and saliva and hair (which is a carrier for both) gets all over the place in short order.

But, they are such sweet babies, that I let them in, pretty much whenever they like.  I think that my door has been continuously open to them for the past several weeks.  It is nice for them, although I must confess that having them there, all snugly and warm and fuzzy is a way for me to improve my own moods lately.  We must have reached critical mass in the dander/saliva/hair realm some time ago.  They should be out.  They should stay out.  Then, I see them there, curled up in the little cozy spaces they have made in the bedclothes and I just cannot deny them, and myself, the pleasure of their company and the quiet rest they find there during the day.

The love of these, two, sweet creatures gives me hope in a kind and loving Universe, the place where I believe that I live.  It is difficult to hold onto that belief some days, which is one of the reasons that I avoid newspapers and the news on radio.  Just too much damn sadness about which I can do nothing. 

Those guys, the furry babies have a small life.  Their universe is this house and the occasional visit to the vet.  Their food is nutritious, but not very varied because of their health issues.  They have toys and people to amuse them.  They have plenty of bird feeders situated near comfy window seats.

Their world in tiny, like really small.  And, they are O.K. with that.  I mean, what choice do they have?  It is all they have known, except for part of their kitten-hood on the streets.  I wonder, sometimes, what they think about what they have.  If they have needs I am not meeting.  Wants, with no way to express them.

No way to know for sure, so I do my best.  So, the bed.

AKA Puddin' Boy

Lilith

Tuesday

So, where was I?  Right, the aftermath of the vet clinic visit.

Today the cats went back for teeth cleaning and possible mouth surgery.  Yesterday's visit included a whole bunch of blood work, both as a pre-whatever for the anesthesia, but also because both of them have significant trouble with their teeth and gums.

Today's visit took the entire day, as they had difficulty recovering from the anesthesia, always a possibility with cats, sad to say.  I have never lost a cat to anesthesia drugs, but it is worth the risk because they simply cannot have mouths that hurt all the time and the additional risk that poor dental health causes to some internal organs, including their little hearts.

So, under they went and several hours later I received a telephone call that they were doing well, but not waking up very well.  They were supposed to come home at 2 p.m., then 3, then 4:30, and I was finally able to fetch them at 6.  They have lots of antibiotics and pain medicine, syringes for today and two more days.  Because I used to tech, I can call them on Friday and come in for more, need be.

They, the clinic, expressed some of the the blood drawn yesterday to one of the state labs so that they would get results sometime today.  It seems that someone there suspected that there was more going on than just bad dental hygiene.  They have feline stomatitis.  They are allergic to the plaque that forms on their teeth between cleanings.  How both of them can have this is beyond me.  During the past forty-plus years that I have had cats and dogs, we have experienced lots of physical issues, mostly because we adopt animals that are health compromised in some way.  We know to expect problems and that is fine.  But, this!  It is beyond my ability to understand.  Worrying is that both FIV and FeLV are often present with this other immune issue, but the tests indicate that neither is there.  Small favors.  I get to be frightened about this for at least a week.

L had four extractions, two of which needed jaw surgery.  C had one, and no one expected to have to do more than simply clean his teeth.  We, the docs and me, are going to get together and figure out a way to monitor this and maybe have me do regular treatments and cleaning at home.

So, the good news is that we are going to be as proactive about this as possible.  L is seven years old and C is just a bit over eleven and I am going to do everything possible to keep them around as long as possible.

The best news about all of this is that I had a lot of money saved for my next trip.  Two days at the clinic and the bill is nearly $1400.00.

Yeah.

Today

So, the kitties are better.  Not that they were manifesting any behaviors regarding the sad state of their teeth, but that is the way of cats, they suffer in silence, and I think that that aspect is what is causing me such distress.

Yeah, I am still nearly incapacitated by the vet bill, but I cannot stop obsessing about the pain that L must have been in with those lesions on her teeth.  Today is their last day of pain medication and I am thrilled because swooping them up and shooting this stuff into their mouths twice a day is doing nothing to improve their wariness of me or to help lessen my guilt about all of this.

The doc has assured me that there is not anything that can be done about this disease they have, but I am worried about either of them suffering again.  I am also worried about how to pay for more treatments and surgeries.  The mister was well prepared.  He had everything in writing before we went ahead with this week's tests and procedures.  I made certain of that.  Another fear is that this is going to be like every other time that he approves something (although never before at this great amount) and then changes his mind after the fact, particularly when the bill rolls in.  I am ready for this time, though.  I have taken the full amount out of my savings for my trip and when he goes all insane on my ass about the costs, I will have the cash to hand to him.  I probably should do that now, but I am holding back just in case he does not start yelling about the whole mess.

I am not sorry that I, we, agreed to do this, but L is seven years old and C is eleven and they have lots of teeth left, with lots of potential surgeries.  I am so conflicted.  I brought them into my life with the commitment to do whatever it took to give them a good life.  They are mine and I am a faithful person.  Hell, more than four decades of marriage proves that.

Just going to have to wait and see what happens.  What is that thing about worry?  Something like worry is payment on a debt you do not yet have, or something like that.  I just looked it up, was only kind of close:  Worry is interest paid on trouble before it comes due.  ~William Ralph Inge

Here are a few more that helped me to feel a little better.
You can't wring your hands and roll up your sleeves at the same time.  ~Pat Schroeder

Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere.  ~Glenn Turner

If things go wrong, don't go with them.  ~Roger Babson

Worry is rust upon the blade.  ~Henry Ward Hughes

Somehow our devils are never quite what we expect when we meet them face to face.  ~Nelson DeMille
Well, that one is just plain wrong...they are always worse.

Oh.  This is all about love.  Simple and plain, love.  I do not think that I can put a limit on that.  So much the worse for this situation, but loving is worth whatever it takes.

Hardly anything in a simple-focal life is simple

It just is not.

Long and boring story about my cats.  Nope.  Just the results.  Yep.

So, anyway, I noticed that C is walking less comfortably and that his arthritis is not being kind to him.  L had really bad breath.  Strange as it seems, both of those issues are connected to the fact that someone who is not me feeds them those tiny cans of wet cat food all day long.  As a bonus, both are gaining weight.

So, off to the vet clinic we go yesterday for a check up and some pre-surgical blood work.  C has great teeth and was scheduled for a cleaning today.  L has horrible, really crappy teeth and even brushing them with this nice tasting liquid and gauze does not really help much, so she was scheduled for surgery as well, as it looked like she needed a tooth extracted.

They went in today and the surgeries went well...one extraction for C, totally unexpected by all of us...four extractions for L, two of which required jaw surgery as well.   Well.

Someone there suspected that more than poor dental hygiene was a factor for L, and expressed some of the blood that was drawn yesterday to one of the state labs, so that we would have results today.

I am still stunned all of these hours later, but both of them seem to have feline stomatitis, an autoimmune disease.  I mean, that does not even seem possible, that both of them have it.  FS is usually accompanied by FIV (feline immunodeficiency virus) and FeLV (feline leukemia virus), neither of which either of them have.  I mean, stunned really, hardly expresses what I am feeling.

So, in the next week or so we will be discussing some new methods of keeping their mouths cleaner, but, honestly, I am so not looking forward to that.  Having to perform regular, like weekly, dental cleanings on them is not going to improve the quality of our relationships.  Simply pilling a cat every day messes up your relationship to a certain extent.  I am going to have to hold each of them down and do some serious rubbing around in their mouths.  I feel sick about it and we have not actually decided to do anything.  Heaven forbid that I should waste worrying on certainty. 

So, I was supposed to fetch them at 2 p.m., then 3, then 4:30 and finally brought them home at 6.  They were having difficulty recovering from the anesthesia, which is always a possibility with kitties.  They are, however, just fine and only a little groggy, three hours later.  At least they are home.  We have antibiotics for ten days and pain meds, syringes, until Friday.  If they are still uncomfortable then, I can get more.

The good news is that all is well for now.  The other good news is that I had already saved some money for my next trip and the $1400.00 in costs for all of the services is easy to pay.

I was thinking a bit earlier that getting a very, very part-time job might not be such a bad idea.  I was offered several for the holiday season, so it would not be difficult to do and since I am taking a break from all of my family for a while, well, I have the time.  Maybe when I am helping clients tomorrow I can take a few minutes to make a call and help myself, although I have to be honest and say that I am not looking forward to working in the belly of the beast again.  Translated, that means the mall.

All is well that ends well.
And, you can never tell
If working in a store will
Be the final pill
That pushes you over the edge.

I cannot know until I try.
Eventually, however, wondering why
I thought it would be fine
To take a bit of time
To earn some vet clinic fees cash.

Close enough.