This is going to be a rather quiet and somewhat sad weekend for us. Come Monday morning, we’ll be taking Celia in to the vet’s to be euthanized. She’s been so sick these past few months and her treatments don’t last as long and are becoming more difficult to give her. So it was decided yesterday afternoon that the kindest thing we could do would be to let her just fall asleep and never wake up again. We’ll cry (I already have — several times) and we’ll say our goodbyes and be there as she goes.
The vet had listed a few options of treatment, all costly, of course, but none of the courses of treatment were guaranteed to help her at all, or to help her long term, or to even heal her. If we were rich, sure we might consider some of the options, but eventually we would have to make the tough decision and do what was, ultimately, the best thing for HER.
I think she knows what’s up. She’s come out of deep hiding and is in visible seclusion instead. She’s no longer flinching when I approach her because she, again, seems to know we’re not going to bother her with meds any further. All I want for her is to come out, spend time where’s she’s most comfortable, and be her lovely self as we prepare ourselves emotionally.
Celia is our gorgeous, furry princess. After she got over her initial shyness and distrust, she became very loving and exceedingly insistent we pet her. It was funny. Whatever it took to get us to bend to her will, well, she was willing to do it. And so were we. On the rare days when she was in play mode, Celia was hysterical. She’d chase and leap and skitter across the floor, she’d meow and make a big deal out of it. And then, five minutes later, she’d be done. Most fun was watching her play with Fletch. They were funny as hell together! Fletch loved it and he was always sad when she’d end the game sooner than he wanted.
There will never be another cat as beautiful as Celia. There will never be another cat as unique as she is. We’re going to miss our Baby Girl.
Hot and muggy trending high in this part of the coutry. We are not fans. Not in the least.
As far as my meds go, I’m settling in with the higher dose of Oxycontin and having no real problems with the Baclofen. Well, I’m a bit sleepy on all of this, but that’s to be expected. I have noticed, however, that I tend to kind of fall out in the middle of typing or watching television. If l begin to drift off here, you’ll likely see random letters appear in no particular order. kkkkdddddddoooosssssssds]sssssssss yeah, kind of like that. I don’t even know it’s happening until I snap to and feel the heaviness ooi in my fingers and have to fight to get them to let upllllllllllllllllkkkkkkkkkkkklllll laasddddddddddddddddd
It’s kind of an odd sensation: that total disconnect with all the rest of the world at the drop of a hat. It’s very disconcerting, to say the least. I sort of nod off during conversations, watching TV, trying to type or play a game. Sometimes I’m just llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll do that. I do a lot of backtracking with the TV. And convos. If you saw how many times I’ve had to backspace this post alone, you’d be amazed.
Well, I’m going to lie down and hope I get some sleep. The sleep I’ve had since starting the Baclofen is working out well. I still wake up with numbness and tingling extremities and pain, but the sleep has been significantly more restful than I’ve had in ages. I”ll take it!
Oh, one more thing (I’ve turned into Columbo all of a sudden): My mom just turned 80 this weekend. Have a slug of some beverage of your choosing in her honor, please. We’re going to keep celebrating each and every event with my parents now that they’re both octogenarians.
Okay, now I’m really going to lie down, listen to the rain, and fall asleep.
God bless my doctors for working so hard to get me back up on my feet and reduce my pain to a level that doesn’t require increasing my pain med dosage to something that should knock me out cold for a week (on JUST ONE PILL). I’ve been doing a lot of crying lately out of sheer frustration and because of the pain. Something has to happen soon to reduce my pain to a much more manageable level. Yesterday, the doc read me his last visit report and told me exactly what he was going to say in the next one. If his drastic demands are denied this time, I’m afraid I might make like a volcano and erupt. Violently. And I’ll ground all air traffic within a thousand miles from the debris. Granted, it’ll likely only be my blood and guts and such, but still…
Oxyconxxx 30mg twice a day
Oxycodxxx 10/325mg every 6hrs as needed
Baclxxxx 10mg three times a day
Cymbxxxx 60mg once, at bedtime
Amxxxx 10mg at bedtime
Enough Colace to ease a plugged up elephant’s bowels but, apparently, not enough for me
Had to drop Flexexxx because I’ve blown up like a doughy balloon while taking it. Not fun. And, of course, when I went to the drugstore to fill new scripts I thought I’d grab a diuretic to help rid myself of the extra fluid that’s caused my lower half to resemble a whole lot of sausage. They didn’t have it. They don’t carry it. They used to, but they no longer feel it’s something they feel good having in the store. They sell liquor and smokes, but they won’t carry OTC diuretics. Go fucking figure.
On top of all this, it’s been hot and muggy. I mean HOT AND MUGGY! HOT AND MUGGY!
Celia’s doing so much better these days, but her recovery has led to another, unanticipated problem: she’s begging for food ALL. THE. TIME. Walking into the kitchen to get some water? She’s there, begging, “feeeed me! Feeeeeeeed me!” Walking by the kitchen? “Feeeeeed me! FEEEEEED MEEEE!” Five minutes after she’s finished eating? “Feeeeeeed me, Seymour! FEED! ME! NOW!” It’s become almost comical. Except it gets very loud at times. On the other hand, it’s a greater alternative to her not eating and slowly dying. So, all things considered, it’s a good thing.
My mom’s doing very since her T.I.A.s. She left the rehab center just a few days after she got there and has since been told she’s fine and needs no further follow-up as far as occupational or physical therapy. YAY! It’s so nice to get good news for a change, you know?
Sadly, my dad is having a rough go of it lately. He just lost a close friend to that fucking bastard cancer. He was younger than my dad and that has made it even worse. This comes on the heels of him losing another friend quite recently. It’s been a lot for Dad to deal with. I understand how tough it is for him to see his circle of friends grow smaller. Suddenly, the people who know and understand you are no longer there. Where does that leave you? I hate to think of him being so lonely. I hate to think of anyone being that lonely.
Mojo and her husband are doing well up in Alaska. They went to interview cats over the weekend as their darling little trouble maker needs a friend. No word yet on the outcome.
Spent Father’s Day with King Arthur’s family down in San Clemente. It was so much cooler down there than it has been up where we live. Reminded me of when I used to live there back in the day and reminded me of why I love the beach so much. KA’s family is a truly lovely clan. I really enjoy spending time with them.
I hope all of you had a wonderful Father’s Day and head into yet another work week with a light heart and kindness for those around you.
So, the 16th marked my 13th year of blogging and it was followed by my 49th birthday. I survived both with my usual “ehness”.
Mixed in with that was a party for my Mojo who left Monday for the wilds of Fairbanks, Alaska. Yep, my little girl is off to join her husband at his current post. It’s both wonderful and sad; bittersweet. Which is also how I feel about everything else.
While blogging has mostly been a joy, there have some very sad times. The loss of friends like Rob, Mikey, and Scott has left a major void in the blogosphere. Thankfully, there are still many amazing friends out there and I’d hate to start naming them and miss anyone. Let’s just say y’all know who you are and I am so very grateful you’re a part of my life.
As for being 49, there are times I consider it a freakin’ miracle I’ve made it this far. When I was younger, I certainly did my best to push the limits and short my chances of having a long life. All that changed when Mojo came along. Kids’ll do that. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Now, those of you who’ve stuck around this long, THANK YOU! And those who’ve decided I’m not their cup of tea, well, I’m pretty sure we’re both better off because of it.
Here’s to making it to Years 14 & 50! Hope you’ll be there when the time comes.
“Picture this: Sicily, 1934…” oh how I miss Sophia Petrillo!
Anyhow, imagine a nice, normal day at ren faire. Enjoying the weather and the people, the music and the madness. Then pictue Peasant Bowling. Yep! We had Peasants lined up as the pins. It was the goofiest thing I have ever seen and…done. it was a lot of fun. I’m hoping I’ll get a chance to see it again so I can bring my camera. I only wish I had video capability on the cam so you could all enjoy the thrill of it all.
Survived the day and did my best to keep the back in line. Exhausted now and I am heading to bed. Perhaps sleep will find me. Perhaps I will dream about the new royal baby, Princess Petunia Periwinkle Perth Amboy. She’s absolute perfection.
We leave later today for faire. Part of my faire prep includes going through photos from last year to get in the mood.
First up, we have King Arthur with our friend from another guild. I have no idea what KA’s looking at, but I had to get a shot of him with the collar he received upon being knighted. He rarely wears it (don’t know why). I think it suits him well.
During Spring, we get horses at faire. I’m not sure why they aren’t there during the Fall, but I’m always excited to see them. Both are black and very tall, sturdy steeds. Our buddy spent a good 15 minutes nuzzling the one horse and the affection and interest looked to be mutual.
This next little guy, sigh. I miss him so much! When I first met him two years ago, he was peeking through a canvas wall and was just as adorable as could be. I said, “hi! You’re cute!” and he replied, “I’m not cute! I’m Edward!” I always made it a point to greet him with, “hi, I’m-not-cute-I’m-Edward” at least once each faire weekend. He and his mom and dad moved back East after faire ended last year. E was the best little buddy in the world. We had “sword fights” and read books and played and basically had a good time.
This little boy? His name was Felix. He came by the guild and we dug through a bin full of books so he could take one home with him. We had a lot of books about animals, but the one animal he liked most was not amongst our collection. His favorite animal? A rhino! A boy after my own heart.
Below, you’ll find a photo of a young man who happened to be a boxer. We ran across him at Southern (which is the oldest faire in the country) with his family. He spoke not a word of English, but his uncle was kind enough to translate for us. Not only was this young guy a boxer, he was also a model. My photo doesn’t even come close to doing him justice.
This float? One of many we use to decorate our encampment. I usually like to grab a few shots while we’re setting up just to remind myself how things were set up the previous season. This was one of two that I remembered to edit.
King Arthur’s daughter-in-law lost her father last week and so we attended the funeral. While at the church for the service, KA’s granddaughter was brought in by the lovely Lady M and Lord R. I first saw her from behind and her beautiful back of the head and her curls made my non-existent ovaries ache in the most awful way. Then another toddler arrived. He had gorgeous little curls at the nape of his neck, too. If I still had a womb it would have wept.
There’s something absolutely delicious about baby hair. The locks that gently twist around and fall softly upon their wee bodies are most delightful. Perfect sweetness. Just as unblemished as the new skin of child. It’s innocence in follicular form. Everything precious and hopeful is wrapped up in each tendril.
I know there are many who feel funerals are not the place for children — especially the very young. But I disagree. The solemnity of the day was eased away by the presence of babies and all the joy they bring with them. They’re a reminder of what life is all about, why we do what we do, and why we care. The laughter and gentleness of children are what fill our lives with joy and they are the perfect antidote to sadness. I’m glad they were there. And I’m glad they brought along their curls.
I was lying on the sofa this morning, doing my best to immerse myself in a TV show as a distraction for the pain I was in. Sleep was not on the menu last night. Not for long. As soon as I would drift off, pain would ramp up and wake me. Try as I might, I could not get comfortable in bed. So off to the sofa for me.
It wasn’t much longer before King Arthur woke up and came out to get some coffee. As has been our routine of late, he checked on Baby Hummingbird #2. He opened the blinds so I could see, too. Suddenly, he became very animated, “look! Look! He’s flapping his wings!” And after a few test flaps, #2 was up and flying. #2 came over to the window to peek in at us and then flew over to the neighbor’s car. After some slipping and sliding on the slick car, he fluttered about under the carport, took another gander at us through the window, and then was off to join Mama.
One baby hummingbird has left the nest! Poor sibling left behind. Looking everywhere for his/her big brother/sister and finding nothing. I have a feeling Baby #2 is going to be flying off in the next couple days. One it’s gone, I’ll be posting photos. You know how I get…superstitious and all that rot.
I’ve been battling a sinus thing most of the week. We had some glorious rain and chilly weather for a couple weeks and then got slammed with Santa Anas that dried out everything and everyone. In the past, I’ve had sinus problems go into my lungs rather quickly. Now? Well, it seems as though it goes straight to my vocal cords and leaves me without a voice. On top of my almost constant sensation of throat thickness (because my neck is jacked up) this makes it difficult for me to swallow. It’s a very odd feeling.
Obviously, I also have sinus pain and pressure. I’ve been vigilant with regards to take my Benadryl and doing my saline washes. It’s pretty much all I can do to keep the symptoms in check. It doesn’t always work, but I keep at it in hopes that it’ll keep things from getting worse. I also drink plenty of fluids, including decaf tea. Have to try everything. Thankfully, I’m not at the Rudolph stage and I aim to avoid that as much as I can.
Sadly, I’m not the only sick one in the house. Fletch has been vomiting all day. He’s lethargic and warmer than normal. He won’t even attempt to drink. I’ve managed to get a few drops of water in him via a 5ml oral syringe. 20 minutes later it all came up. This time, instead of vomiting all over the floor (carpet, tile, it’s all game), he managed to get it into his food bowl. Poor guy! We’re doing all we can to make him comfortable, but if he’s not better in the morning he’s going to see the vet. I wish I could just hand him some Gatorade and chicken noodle soup, some crackers, and Tylenol and let him sleep it off like you would a person. That doesn’t work for kitties, though.
Maybe this week we’ll all get better. I’m putting that at the top of the TO DO list.
There are two…TWO! baby hummingbirds in the nest outside.
One is definitely more animated than the other. I don’t know if that spells trouble for the other one, or maybe it’s just that one hatched earlier and is more developed. Either way, I’m happy to see the second baby.
Photos are slow to come because they’re still so tiny. And the eyes are barely open, more chameleon-like than birdy at this point. It’s exciting to watch.
If you read the previous post and wonder if there is any joy at all in my life, wonder no more. At least one of the hummingbird eggs has hatched! I’ve only been able to see a tiny bit of a very tiny beak poking out of the nest, being fed by Mama Hummingbird, but it’s at least one more lovely bird in our community.
We had a lot of rain on Sunday. Violent downpours off and on all throughout the day. I worried about the baby bird. I worried about the mama. All is fine, though. as Mama was feeding the baby yesterday.
Miss Celia is doing much better these days. She still has a problem with her mouth and you can tell it bothers her when she yawns. Otherwise, she’s been doing really well. She’s eating. A lot. And is very vocal when she thinks there might be some food available. Especially chicken. She’s grooming herself more frequently. Her coat looks AMAZING and you can tell she’s putting on some weight because she’s looking more like a red panda than a scrawny cat. She’s playing more. She’s more affectionate. But…
She’s a fart monster.
Whenever she lets one go, she kind of jumps and looks at the spot where she was sitting as if to say, “what the hell was that?” As if she couldn’t have possibly caused that noise. Or the smell. Sometimes it makes her run away. It’s really funny. Except that it stinks. And she has a habit of sitting with her butt angled toward someone’s face. Or she is always swishing her tail toward us. It’s gross, but super funny.
We’re going to take her back in for a recheck to let the vet see how well she’s doing. We’ll also be declining more antibiotics. They wanted her on antibiotics again at the last visit and we declined. Poor thing needed a break from the torture of us shoving the meds down her throat. She HATES that. I mean, she REALLY REALLY HATES IT! Since we stopped the antibiotics she’s been happy and doing everything a cat should do.
We’re coming up on a year of having cats. They’ve changed our lives in wonderful ways. It’s taken them almost this whole year to really settle in and act like they feel they belong here. We didn’t expect them to adjust overnight after living in a shelter their entire lives, but we certainly didn’t think it would take as long as it did. With patience and lots of love, it happened naturally and has been a delight to watch them thrive. I told King Arthur the other day how happy I am that we adopted these two weirdos (including Little Miss Fart Monster) and how much it means to me that we have these furry little friends in our lives. The house feels so much more like a home with them here.
King Arthur’s daughter is pregnant again. I mentioned on Facebook that I’d dreamed she was giving a bath to a baby boy, and then told her about the next day when we got together for dinner. She mentioned she’d just started to bathe Baby Emma in the tub after she started making such a mess in the kitchen sink so I attributed the dream to that. But then she called the next weekend to tell me she realized she hadn’t had a period since Thanksgiving and took a pregnancy test and…TA DA! Preggers. Lady M and Lord R are fantastic parents to Emma; Emma’s a wonderful child and I’m sure their next baby is going to be just as lovely as the first. If they end up with a boy, though, I’m going to have to start paying more attention to my dreams and charging people for my services.
We have a new hummingbird nest on a support leg of the carport next door. It’s closer to the front of the house than the last one and I can see it a little better from the window next to my chair. Mama hummingbird is almost always on her nest. I’m pretty sure she’s the same bird we had last year. She flits off to eat and returns quickly. I’ve taken a few photos of her, but only when she’s not looking because I want her comfy in her nest. I can’t wait to see the babies, though! They are always so adorable.
Just finished a book for my book club. It was wonderful. Tell The Wolves I’m Home is about a young teen girl in 1987 who loses her uncle to AIDS. After his death, the girl must deal with her grief, the discovery of his boyfriend, growing up, and learning what it means to love those around her even though they may have hurt others deeply. I can’t explain it more than that at the moment. I’m still digesting it and collecting my thoughts and feelings. All I can say is check it out for yourself. It’s a good read. Some in the book club weren’t nearly as happy with it, finding some of the characters and behaviors unimaginable. But as someone who grew up in the 80s, it all rang true for me. So, here I am, recommending it to you.
One of the gifts I gave KA for Christmas was 2Cellos music. We’ve been listening to a lot of it lately. The video below is for one of my favorite songs on their In2ition album. Enjoy.