Last night my cat Buddy couldn't eat. He sniffed the food, took a bite and then dropped the bite immediately. I knew he needed to get his teeth cleaned because his gums were infected, but had been putting it off. I called right then and made an appointment for him for today.
Teeth cleaning for cats is considered surgery since they have to be sedated. I took him into the office this morning thinking I would just drop him off and go to work. I got to the vet's office at about 7:40 and didn't get out of there until nearly 8:00! (I was a few minutes late for work. Oops.) I actually had to sign paperwork stating that I was permitting them to sedate my cat and that I understood that sometimes animals don't wake up from sedation... um, yikes! I signed the paperwork since they assured me that it is simply a formality and that it "rarely" happens. Again, yikes... rarely? They told me he'd be through surgery and that they'd call around lunchtime to let me know how he was doing. So, with an extra scratch on the head, I handed him off to the vet tech. By the time I got to work I had a headache and my neck hurt from the stress of having my "just a cat" having surgery.
I waited impatiently until 1:00 to call. They, they said around lunchtime... to me that is between 11:00 and 1:00. I thought I showed great restraint in waiting. He wasn't awake yet, but the surgery was done. There were no extractions, thank goodness and he was doing fine. Big sigh of relief. They said he'd be ready at 4:00. :::Whew:::
The whole thing made me think... it might be a good thing I don't have kids. If "just a cat" stresses me to that point. Not only that, but I feel so guilty about not getting him in earlier. I knew he needed a teeth cleaning. I knew he wasn't eating as much as normal and was losing weight. Yet, I let him get to the point that he couldn't even eat! What kind of cat guardian/person am I? A thoroughly guilt-ridden one who now has a cat with sparkly clean choppers!!
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
I'm old and bitter, I guess
E-Harmony commercials have begun to really tick me off. As if I haven't been made to feel a failure by society, anyway, all those happy couples who are e-Harmony successes make me wonder what I did wrong.
Why do I sound a little bitter and angry? What is my experience with dating on e-Harmony? Well, I spoke with or e-mailed a whopping six guys, I went on a total of four first dates, and all of this in just a little over three years on e-Harmony. The first guy was still married. (I know!!) The second guy, there was just NOTHING there. The third guy, nothing again. The fourth (and final) guy my friends have dubbed as "Freak Boy" beause he was so very oddly and angrily jealous after one date. They joked that I'd have ended up locked in a small room away from family and friends.
So, I guess I'm never going to end up as a commercial for e-Harmony.
Why do I sound a little bitter and angry? What is my experience with dating on e-Harmony? Well, I spoke with or e-mailed a whopping six guys, I went on a total of four first dates, and all of this in just a little over three years on e-Harmony. The first guy was still married. (I know!!) The second guy, there was just NOTHING there. The third guy, nothing again. The fourth (and final) guy my friends have dubbed as "Freak Boy" beause he was so very oddly and angrily jealous after one date. They joked that I'd have ended up locked in a small room away from family and friends.
So, I guess I'm never going to end up as a commercial for e-Harmony.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
I saw my future...
When I went to Amarillo a couple of weeks ago to see the grandparents, I had a great visit with my uncles and aunt as well. One night as we were all sitting in the living room, the subject of "did you take all your night time medicine?" came up. BOTH of my uncles (and I suspect my father would have been, too) are on mulitple medicines for various ailments many of which would not be necessary if it they lost 75 pounds (or more). Both of them carry weight in their bellies, a good indicator of future heart disease according to the medical profession. I suddenly saw my future unless I do something about it.
But I came home, got back into my normal routine and promptly forgot about the panic I felt sitting in the livingroom that night. That is until this morning. I stepped on the scale and nearly cried. Then as I got into the shower I actually saw myself in the mirror. That panic came back. Something has got to be done. I have got to do something. I know myself well enough to know that I'm not going to change what I eat completely. BUT I can, and need to, watch portions. I can change the between meal snacks to healthier options.
I also have loads of workout tapes that I can do.
So, it is up to me to change what I saw as my future. I don't want to be sitting around with my neice and nephew 25 years from now discussing if we've taken our bedtime medicine. I certainly don't want them to look at me and think, gosh, if she'd just lose weight she'd be a lot healthier and probably wouldn't need all that medicine.
Now, in all fairness to my uncles, neither seems bothered by their weight. My Aunt J even said that Uncle G is happy with his and isn't willing to do anything about it. The thing is, I'm not happy with my weight and the way I look and I am willing to do something about it. I have got to do something about it.
But I came home, got back into my normal routine and promptly forgot about the panic I felt sitting in the livingroom that night. That is until this morning. I stepped on the scale and nearly cried. Then as I got into the shower I actually saw myself in the mirror. That panic came back. Something has got to be done. I have got to do something. I know myself well enough to know that I'm not going to change what I eat completely. BUT I can, and need to, watch portions. I can change the between meal snacks to healthier options.
I also have loads of workout tapes that I can do.
So, it is up to me to change what I saw as my future. I don't want to be sitting around with my neice and nephew 25 years from now discussing if we've taken our bedtime medicine. I certainly don't want them to look at me and think, gosh, if she'd just lose weight she'd be a lot healthier and probably wouldn't need all that medicine.
Now, in all fairness to my uncles, neither seems bothered by their weight. My Aunt J even said that Uncle G is happy with his and isn't willing to do anything about it. The thing is, I'm not happy with my weight and the way I look and I am willing to do something about it. I have got to do something about it.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
As We Never Forget
"Where were you when....?"
That seems to be the question of the day each September 11. I was at work. The boss was out of town and so the office was more relaxed than normal and we were all standing around chatting before we started our day. It wasn't even 8:00 a.m. (Texas time) yet.
A co-worker's husband called and told us to turn on the TV because a plane had hit the World Trade Center. We scoffed and thought it must be a mistake... an awful accident. It wasn't and we, like the rest of the world, watched in horror as the second plane hit, the towers fell. None of us cried. I think it was just to shocking, too unbelievable to think that airplanes had hit the Pentagon and the World Trade Center -- and then hearing about the plane that had gone down in Pennsylvania. It was my job at that point to call each of my sales reps and find out where they were (many were traveling and now stranded) and assure them that the company was there for them. I remember thinking that my brother in law was on his way to Baltimore (I don't know why I new that) and hoping, praying that his plane wasn't affected and had landed safely somewhere because at that point, it was still unclear where the planes had originated or were going.
That day, like December 7 for my grandparents' generation and November 22 for my parents' generation is the day that will always be that "where were you when...?" day.
There are so many things about that day that I will never forget.
I will never forget that I was running late to work that day and how pretty it was outside... it was a crisp, clear fall day.
I will never forget seeing that second plane heading toward the World Trade Center and then watching in horror as it hit.
I will never forget watching the towers fall.
I will never forget the images of people, covered in dust, walking away -- just walking.
I will never forget those who ran in as others ran out.
I will never forget the Falling Man.
I will never forget the sound of all those planes flying over trying to land at DFW as American airspace was closed.
I will never forget the sound of utter silence broken by F-14s doing flyovers.
I will never forget the seemingly unending sound of bagpipes playing Amazing Grace at the funerals of those who died.
I will never forget I am honored and blessed to live in the United States where I have the ability to pray and worship without fear.
I will never forget that no matter her flaws, America is still the greatest country in the world and a beacon of light and hope to the world.
I will never forget....
That seems to be the question of the day each September 11. I was at work. The boss was out of town and so the office was more relaxed than normal and we were all standing around chatting before we started our day. It wasn't even 8:00 a.m. (Texas time) yet.
A co-worker's husband called and told us to turn on the TV because a plane had hit the World Trade Center. We scoffed and thought it must be a mistake... an awful accident. It wasn't and we, like the rest of the world, watched in horror as the second plane hit, the towers fell. None of us cried. I think it was just to shocking, too unbelievable to think that airplanes had hit the Pentagon and the World Trade Center -- and then hearing about the plane that had gone down in Pennsylvania. It was my job at that point to call each of my sales reps and find out where they were (many were traveling and now stranded) and assure them that the company was there for them. I remember thinking that my brother in law was on his way to Baltimore (I don't know why I new that) and hoping, praying that his plane wasn't affected and had landed safely somewhere because at that point, it was still unclear where the planes had originated or were going.
That day, like December 7 for my grandparents' generation and November 22 for my parents' generation is the day that will always be that "where were you when...?" day.
There are so many things about that day that I will never forget.
I will never forget that I was running late to work that day and how pretty it was outside... it was a crisp, clear fall day.
I will never forget seeing that second plane heading toward the World Trade Center and then watching in horror as it hit.
I will never forget watching the towers fall.
I will never forget the images of people, covered in dust, walking away -- just walking.
I will never forget those who ran in as others ran out.
I will never forget the Falling Man.
I will never forget the sound of all those planes flying over trying to land at DFW as American airspace was closed.
I will never forget the sound of utter silence broken by F-14s doing flyovers.
I will never forget the seemingly unending sound of bagpipes playing Amazing Grace at the funerals of those who died.
I will never forget I am honored and blessed to live in the United States where I have the ability to pray and worship without fear.
I will never forget that no matter her flaws, America is still the greatest country in the world and a beacon of light and hope to the world.
I will never forget....
Monday, September 3, 2007
Traveling with Cats
I went to the Panhandle to see all the family there this weekend. I stayed at Uncle J's house and, because it's so expensive to board the cats and they HATE it, I asked if I could bring them with me. He's got a great sunroom, said the guys could stay there, so I packed them into the car and off we went.
I got harnesses and leashes for them to travel and packed them into the car with toys, food, dishes, litter box.... Maxie howled for the first hour. After that, he whined and voiced his displeasure for another three hours and finally, for the last hour, settled down and napped some. Buddy was quiet and except for the shaking violently, was okay. He figured out he could put his paws in my lap while sitting on the center console and relaxed doing that. He was fine after that. It was like traveling with kids (I assume) with all the "stuff" I had to take for them.
When we got to Uncle J's house, we unloaded all the stuff and packed them into the sunroom. Buddy immediately hid in the box Grandmother provided for hiding. She said she likes to spoil her great grands... so she gave them a box. Hmmm... don't kids usually like the box better anyway? It was all good as long as they couldn't see me. That was easier said than done since there were French doors between the sunroom and living room. Anytime we were in the living room, they could see me and Maxie would howl -- especially at night because I slept on the sofa bed and he could see me. But, by night three, he had calmed down and wasn't quite as vocal.
The grandparents are doing okay. Granddaddy is about the same as the last time I saw him. He is so quiet and just sits and listens or watches TV so it is hard to know how he was really doing. I did notice some short-term memory problems, though. He would ask a question and then a little later ask the same question. He'd do this three or four times in a row. That is a little hard to see. It is also hard to accept that he's a frail old man now. I know, he's 87 and had a full life and all, but he's MY Granddaddy and he's supposed to live forever... :::sigh::: yet, the way I saw him this weekend is the best he'll be.
Grandmother is a mess... and by that I don't mean doing poorly.... she's just a mess. She had the pacemaker put in on Thursday. Friday she seemed to be in quite a bit of pain but was reluctant to take the pain meds. She groused about being waited on. She grumbled about not being able to cook for her family. By Saturday, though, she was doing much better. The pain, she said, was all but gone. I think she was just frustrated because she can't use her left arm because she can't raise it up or lift anything with it until she goes back to the doctor next Monday. There was only one scary moment with her, really. She complained Saturday morning that she was light headed and dizzy and it felt like her heart was racing. Uncle J called the doc's office and they told him to take her blood pressure and check her pulse. We did and everything was normal. I don't mean that she didn't feel that way, but for the first time in recent memory, her BP was within normal range AND her pulse was 72. I am sure that it did feel like it was racing since before the pacemaker her "normal" pulse rate was about 48 beats per minute!
By Sunday, both Grandmother and Granddaddy were feeling good and we (Uncle G, Aunt J, Uncle J, G&G) were able to go out to dinner. It was nice and relaxed and I heard stories about when Granddaddy was a boy and had a hot pepper eating contest with his friends.
Monday morning it was time to come home. I loaded the guys up and off we went. Maxie and Buddy both settled down pretty quickly and it was an uneventful ride home -- only minimal whining from Maxie.
I got harnesses and leashes for them to travel and packed them into the car with toys, food, dishes, litter box.... Maxie howled for the first hour. After that, he whined and voiced his displeasure for another three hours and finally, for the last hour, settled down and napped some. Buddy was quiet and except for the shaking violently, was okay. He figured out he could put his paws in my lap while sitting on the center console and relaxed doing that. He was fine after that. It was like traveling with kids (I assume) with all the "stuff" I had to take for them.
When we got to Uncle J's house, we unloaded all the stuff and packed them into the sunroom. Buddy immediately hid in the box Grandmother provided for hiding. She said she likes to spoil her great grands... so she gave them a box. Hmmm... don't kids usually like the box better anyway? It was all good as long as they couldn't see me. That was easier said than done since there were French doors between the sunroom and living room. Anytime we were in the living room, they could see me and Maxie would howl -- especially at night because I slept on the sofa bed and he could see me. But, by night three, he had calmed down and wasn't quite as vocal.
The grandparents are doing okay. Granddaddy is about the same as the last time I saw him. He is so quiet and just sits and listens or watches TV so it is hard to know how he was really doing. I did notice some short-term memory problems, though. He would ask a question and then a little later ask the same question. He'd do this three or four times in a row. That is a little hard to see. It is also hard to accept that he's a frail old man now. I know, he's 87 and had a full life and all, but he's MY Granddaddy and he's supposed to live forever... :::sigh::: yet, the way I saw him this weekend is the best he'll be.
Grandmother is a mess... and by that I don't mean doing poorly.... she's just a mess. She had the pacemaker put in on Thursday. Friday she seemed to be in quite a bit of pain but was reluctant to take the pain meds. She groused about being waited on. She grumbled about not being able to cook for her family. By Saturday, though, she was doing much better. The pain, she said, was all but gone. I think she was just frustrated because she can't use her left arm because she can't raise it up or lift anything with it until she goes back to the doctor next Monday. There was only one scary moment with her, really. She complained Saturday morning that she was light headed and dizzy and it felt like her heart was racing. Uncle J called the doc's office and they told him to take her blood pressure and check her pulse. We did and everything was normal. I don't mean that she didn't feel that way, but for the first time in recent memory, her BP was within normal range AND her pulse was 72. I am sure that it did feel like it was racing since before the pacemaker her "normal" pulse rate was about 48 beats per minute!
By Sunday, both Grandmother and Granddaddy were feeling good and we (Uncle G, Aunt J, Uncle J, G&G) were able to go out to dinner. It was nice and relaxed and I heard stories about when Granddaddy was a boy and had a hot pepper eating contest with his friends.
Monday morning it was time to come home. I loaded the guys up and off we went. Maxie and Buddy both settled down pretty quickly and it was an uneventful ride home -- only minimal whining from Maxie.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)