Don’t Kiss and Tell – & – Getting a Leg Up

My pets are going to be the death of me. Between diseased fish dying earlier this year and now issues with both cats, I feel almost like I’m going to keel over at times from the stress.

While medication is helping my anxiety, I believe my empathy cost me a real and very specific physical illness.

A few weeks back, before Tilly displayed evidence of another urinary tract infection, I succumbed to violent gastro-intestinal distress in the middle of the night. My husband offered more than once to take me to an urgent care center as food poisoning symptoms continued throughout the day and into late afternoon. I declined, certain hydration and rest would get me through, and they did.

It took a few days for full recovery from the aftereffects.

Then Tilly got diagnosed with her e. coli infection. Something clicked over this past Tuesday and I recalled my habit of kissing her atop the head after administering her hyperthyroid pills. Since my husband stayed free from my sickness, thank heaven, and we ate almost the exact same home prepared meals for days prior, it seems logical I poisoned myself via that poor kitty.

So I’m not kissing her anymore. A pat on the head is quite sufficient.

Now to the second part of my whacky title, I found Jezebel limping this morning at 7am.

Jezebel Curled Up Napping on a Happier Day

Have I mentioned her periodic little front leg tremors? She’s almost always looking out the window and we chalk it up to excitement. Today, frantic she’s having neurological complications I’ve neglected, I telephoned my veterinary clinic before they opened in hopes some early arriving tech would pick up the phone.

Instead, I got a recorded message that the wireless customer did not have current service and to try back later. Well, I did, over and over. Finally, I got through and they will see her at 8:45am tomorrow, the earliest available appointment. They weren’t having the best day, either, with both Internet connection and telephone operations requiring service.

In the meantime, I feel better seeing Jezzy act normal in every way outside favoring the leg/paw. Otherwise I would take her to an animal urgent care center. Despite what I dare call mishandling of Tilly’s case, those folks have given our girls excellent care throughout sweet Luna’s life and beyond.

Jezebel could have hurt herself jumping off one of the tall cat trees during the night or, as my husband additionally suggested, suffer arthritis that became too painful to support her weight. Curled up in bed feeling sick and miserable myself (prior to contacting the clinic), I was joined by her for a typical quiet snuggle.

After I got up and felt better having scheduled her exam, she displayed a healthy appetite and is now curled under the guest bed covers, another of many favorite lounging areas.

Do you think that theory regarding my stomach bug makes sense?

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A Flop, a Flip, and a No Flip Flop Zone

For the first time in maybe eight or nine years I failed to meet a writing challenge. It turns out that my keyboard time gets interrupted more than I realized. A self set goal of two hours a day editing and/or typing new prose proved more difficult than spouting fifty thousand words in a month. Meeting those goals, I tend to start rapid fire storytelling about an hour before I anticipate my husband requesting my company.

Yesterday I put down my laptop with thirty-nine minutes still needed to reach sixty hours for April. It seemed a minor thing to finish up after my husband went to bed. Instead, we both fell asleep on the sofa and I woke up at 12:30, missing the deadline.

Oh, well. It’s an interesting lesson.

I may have gotten in the way now and then, but the fail is all her fault.

On the flip side (get it? heh…), my husband’s hearing has improved a good deal. We no longer have spats about sound volumes and hearing tests, a huge relief.

He believes now that he picked up a mostly painless ear infection of some sort. Tenderness and swelling he came to recognize have both improved alongside his audible range. While his right ear’s capacity is not back to where it was, we are not complaining since his left ear has been useless for a number of years now. Incidentally, back then his physician believed he developed an otherwise symptom free case of the mumps (!), surprising because he got vaccinated as a young airman before United States Air Force boot camp.

As for flip flops, and I know many are fans, they should never be worn around a running lawnmower. That may be obvious, but I have witnessed more than one woman doing so, sometimes in a bikini. And there’s a reason I bring this up.

I last mowed on Sunday during a blessedly cool and cloudy period. Unfortunately, I couldn’t complete the job, which inspired this whole train of thought regarding footwear.

More than halfway through the process, my mower blade disconnected and got spat out across the grass. I am fortunate to have received no injury. The machine is awaiting repairs as I type, the lawn still a mess. A neighbor offered to lend us his mower when asked but my husband worries about the missing bolt causing damage. It turns out the guy also owns a metal detector. It seems I’ll have to approach him over the matter as we’ve not heard more from the man.

On another bright side, while waiting for my spouse to conduct our business at the repair shop a young worker approached me to ask about my car. He purchased a used version one Volt last winter and wondered how I felt about the 2017. Geeking out with another enthusiast brightened my day. He wasn’t bad looking, either.

~wink~

Have you, like me, begun considering monoculture lawns a waste of time and recourses?

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Here We Go Again

Tilly, Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed in November Before Spring Grooming

For the third time since last September, our cat Tilly displayed curious behavior indicative of a urinary tract infection. It began Sunday afternoon as happened on December thirtieth last year. Once again, I got lucky making a same day veterinary appointment.

The first time, dear readers may remember we chose the Convenia antibiotic shot as we left for our autumn vacation before receiving diagnosis. Our pet sitters, a wonderful couple, handled her care.

Upon the second occurrence, I requested tablets. To my surprise, the vet that New Year’s Eve day told me they are more effective against the average UTI than a one time shot.

Okay.

It would have been nice to know earlier, but we had no real choice in the matter anyway. The pet sitter prefers not to administer oral medications after a nasty dog bite. I can’t blame her.

This past Monday, I got a more disturbing surprise. For an additional $95, a urine analysis on the specific bacteria will allow us to better target treatment.

What?!

Why didn’t they offer that months ago? I wonder if past treatments never even cleared her of whatever bacteria strain’s plaguing our poor darling, resulting in these uncomfortable reoccurrences. I’ll have you know, I kept my cool in the examination room and beyond, until returning home and raving to my equally bemused DH.

Meanwhile, I spent over $300 and still have to purchase more of whatever pills are recommended. And for now Tilly endures not only her preliminary antibiotic twice daily on top of the regular thyroid medication, but also ear drops and a liquid oral pain medicine morning and night, as well. I must admit, the mild sedation of that last seems to bring us more peace and quiet until she decides it time to demand another serving of canned food.

Tilly is spoiled, and loves pestering my husband for attention. And thank heaven, goes into peaceful sleep on his lap every afternoon. Now, let’s hope the ear drops clear up some mild irritation and reduce her wax overproduction.

A call should confirm our next step toward her UTI in a day or so. Meanwhile, her blood work otherwise showed the feline in good health, especially considering her age. That’s a relief.

If she suffered kidney dysfunction, antibiotics could be prescribed for up to six weeks (!) as opposed to two. Unless someone goofed up reading reports on our phone message, she won’t need that. We have been given false hope with a past error. Wish us luck.

Are you aware that people not completing a prescribed course of antibiotics is a contributing factor toward the emergence of resistant bacterial strains?

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Where Am I? Happy News, &, What’s That You Say?

During this month’s Camp NaNo writing challenge, I decided to count hours instead of fresh words. That flexibility offers a chance to work on edits and new story as I see fit.

Yesterday and today I made minute changes to a short story. Finished reading those words, I moved back to a WIP with different characters. In one amusing moment this afternoon, I recognized a mistake. Switching between Nickolas and Alex in Cincinnati, I set Arick and Lita in that same region instead of their native US state of Idaho.

I rectified that with a chuckle. Meanwhile, I am enjoying this ongoing dedication as a writer sans the stress of attempts to publish. We shall see what the future holds in that department.

In other happy news, lunch with someone considered the little brother I never had and a lady who has been making him very happy rounded out another successful and rewarding day. Now I’m about to join my husband for some YouTube video content. On a less pleasant front, a few days ago his hearing seemed to take an abrupt and sever downturn.

Deaf in one ear for several years, attributed to otherwise asymptomatic mumps (shocking considering he received inoculations in the Air Force decades ago), my spouse has been turning broadcasts up to the point it makes me flinch on occasion. To combat this, I put cotton in my ears.

Even that proved inadequate the other evening and I located Styrofoam ear plugs. When spotted, that did not go over well. He stormed out of the room and got on his computer. Today I implored him to get a hearing test. He met that with stoic dissatisfaction. I guess we all are in denial over something.

Any suggestions for what I should do next? How far should I push, and how fast before things deteriorate further?

Anything exciting happening in your neck of the woods?

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A Novel Idea & One Horrific Article

This April, for a writing challenge I have continued my work-in-progress (WIP) revamped during National Novel Writing Month last November. It’s been a joy spinning the romantic yarn and exploring the plague upon poor young Arick. He and Lita, I’ve decided, are going to make a formidable team against supernatural forces of evil. For a change, my tale is spooling toward novel length.

Today I realized how and why a man from each generation of Arick’s family suffered his burden, saving innocents from accidents and murder. Their bloodline can be traced back to the evil and cruel Delphine LaLaurie from New Orleans in the early 1800s. The society woman’s heinous crimes were familiar to me thanks to “American Horror Story: Coven” several years ago. In my tale, her monstrous spirit lives on even as her descendents pay for her crimes following a Voodoo curse.

Reading some details on the Mental Floss website proved more hair-raising than fiction. Seven other atrocious tales round out the article. In case you share my morbid fascination, you can find it here.

Do you like horror movies/shows?

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Cheeta Man

Since cutting the cable and buying a Roku, my husband and I have found more interesting television than ever before, often via YouTube. Somehow, yesterday he came across ‘Cheeta Man’, a fabulous story about big cat conservationists.

It’s no secret I adore lean young men with long hair. Soft spoken, twenty-eight year old Frenchman and naturalist Olivier Houalet (pronounced Olivi-ay Wha-lay) knocked my socks off. The story of what he and his collaborators endeavor, attempting to reintroduce orphaned cheetahs back into the wild, is astonishing.

Mr. Houalet is brave to the point of insanity. If you want to get an idea of this but don’t have three quarters of an hour to spend watching the entire cool documentary, the opening shows Olivier’s typical interactions with the five wild animals. Throughout the project, these two sets of related brothers and a single loner share fascinating, changing dynamics among themselves. I highly recommend watching in entirety.

Would you go on an African safari if you could?

                

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Ups and Downs – aka – A Beautiful Boy, My Lovely Man, and One Lucky Lady

I have seen light at the end of the tunnel through my anxiety issues. Talking to a doctor and getting on medication have me feeling on a more even keel. I even managed getting to the YMCA two days in a row last week.

Then I fell ill with some sort of stomach bug the night after my second trip. In an ironic twist, my husband thinks I picked up something at the gym since we ate pretty much the same exact foods at home all week and he stayed healthy while I turned inside out.

It took me five days recovering before I felt up to proper exercise. A little apprehensive, I returned to the gym yesterday. And I got my payoff, dirty old lady style.

While on one of the resistance training machines, I saw the most beautiful boy walk past. He had exquisite lean muscle tone, impossible to miss since he wore a sliced up excuse for a shirt that gave a gorgeous view of his bared arms and lats. And he worked that thick head of shoulder length dark hair, flipping those coiled locks after each rest between weight lifting sets.

Since my lovely spouse is so confident and tolerant of my adolescent sensibilities, I admitted my lechery upon returning home. He laughed when I spoke of changing my routine to keep the guy within casual viewing range. Back in the nineties, my silly guy debated with me over who was hotter from the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy, Legolas or Aragorn. Over time, I came to agree with him that it’s the latter. ~grin~ He called Legolas a ‘greasy elf’.

Viggo Mortensen - the Face of a Hero King

Have you read J. R. R. Tolkien?

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New and Improved, Not

After my friend introduced me to the term ‘first world problems’ I can’t stop applying the term. Today’s little gripe definitely fits.

Another one of them has an actual name – choice paralysis. It’s when a person goes to the modern grocery store and has trouble finding the desired item due to so many options.

That issue cropped up yesterday in an unexpected way. Shopping with my husband, I decided to pick up a box of sesame sticks. They’re one of the few snacks I crave, if only now and then.

Last night I opened the container and put one in my mouth. Instead of succulent sesame, I got hammered by garlic. It turns out the manufacturer decided to try a new recipe. These are ‘everything’ sesame sticks. Just like the bagel of the same name, I find the taste overwhelming.

~sigh~

One of these days I’ll learn to check every last label to the finest print. Oh, well. They can be eaten along with the white cheddar crispy things my husband picked out and decided they taste horrible. Maybe they’ll cancel one another out.

Are you a snacker?

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