Posted at 11:49 AM | Permalink
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My personal nightmare: Sticking the cat with a needle 5 times a day, in between feeding her renal diet food mixed with water through a syringe at least 5 times a day for the next few days, only to be looking forward to maybe next week starting with infusions 3 times a week (more needle-action).
I know that in a coule of days she will feel better and all this is only to make her feel better, but oh how she detests me right now! Well, at least while I do this. 20 minutes later she'll be at my side purring again. Still.
On one hand she is an old cat, 16 years, and chronic kidney disease can not be "healed". On the other hand, with good care she can still live a lot longer (well, with an old cat you never know how "long" that will be). So what do you do?
For now I feel she doesn't want to go ... yet, she might have some fight left in her, but will I know "when" to let go?
So much easier with the other two before her, they were just really sick and everything we did just didn't help. And I could exactly pinpoint that moment when they wanted to "go". But with her it's really not easy to "know."
One week equals 14 injections, which makes a lot of needles ... Fortunately the plastic-part can be reused we only need to rinse it with boiling water, but the needles are only being used once as each injection makes them less sharp, meaning it gets more painful.
One would think that the cat might despise you for "sticking it to her" (sorry, bad joke), but she doesn't. She's still as affectionate as ever. Of course she'll try to hide everytime she senses it's "that time of the day" again, but afterwards: no hard feelings.
Posted at 09:29 PM | Permalink
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So it seems there is a new way for comment spam.
It to copies part of your blog post and uses it as a comment and within a minute you're hit with approx. 12 identical comments on the same post with different sender names, IP addresses and various eMail addresses as well as a multitude of idiotic weblinks. I didn't even look at the email addresses or the links they refer to, the email addresses are most likely fake and the links are sure to be crap. I just deleted them right away.
I am wondering though if they actually have someone sitting there typing in the captchas?
Because that was the first change I made. I hate captchas but I found myself constrained to use them. Apparently that didn't make any difference at all.
Next thing I did is require signing in ... let's wait how that turns out ... and I set my comments up so that after 2 weeks the comments on older blog posts (which are the ones that are being hit) are closed. Let's see tomorrow.
The thing is ... my blog isn't even interesting or important at all, I don't even think anybody is reading it (ok, I lied, it is being read I can see the visitors, but you get what I meant, right? I am not some wildly popular blog with tens of thousands of views every day), so what sense does it make?
Sometimes I want to make a movie out of my memories, because sometimes life just is "like in the movies". A movie of a million little stories. And every now and then I want to slip into one of these stories and relive the memory.
Since the going-to-work debacle of this morning just 5 mins ago I found out about the freezer-debacle.
So, after I left the house this morning around 7 a.m. and the stowing away of foods shortly thereafter I had not been to the kitchen at all. Which is why only now, after I decided to go into the kitchen to start preparing for dinner, so that the starved boyfriend, after a long work-day will not collapse right then and there on the spot, I saw the horrors! Or say: I felt it first.
I love being barefoot at home, unfortunately that also means that I will step in each and everything the cats leave in their wake, be it sand from the litterbox or furballs (let me explain to those who don't have cats, a furball, although it sounds quite cute and clean is anything BUT!)
So there I was, wet feet in an otherwise dry kitchen. And then I saw it: water started oozing out at the bottom of the freezer. Not in a wild stream or such, but a steady dribble. I assume, that when the boyfriend -dearest-, this morning took out some bread from the freezer, he apparently hadn't shut the freezer door all the way. So although it looked closed, it wasn't, and since more than 10 hours had passed everything had started to melt ...
When I opened the freezer door this is what I saw ...
A flush of happiness flowing through my body and a flush of cold water flowing through my toes I started cleaning up.
Needless to say, that whatever is cooking tonight might not be prepared with love ... it rather my be served "ice-cold"!
Good Morning Alzheimer!
Got up this morning 10 mins after my boyfriend had left for work (at 5 a.m.) and shortly before 7 a.m. All the while not realizing it's the weekend!
So I drove to the office, already surprised at how low traffic was and absolutely stunned at how many parking spaces were available at the office when I finally realized: it's Saturday! I don't work today.
So I did the next best thing: I did all the grocery and other shopping and can now move on to cleaning and laundry.
Oh sweet sweet weekend, 'tis true, how leisurely and relaxed art thou!
I guess I would have preferred the office. I like that kind of work better.
People always ask you: "Where were you on 9/11". And strangely enough it is a question I can answer. I do know where I was. I was home sick, lying on the couch watching something stupid on tv, when they broke the news. I called my boyfriend who was working and told him.
But that isn't really what I want to talk about. I ask myself the same question: "Where were you when 'XYZ' happened". For example:
Where was I when I realized that I would never get married and never have children?
Where was I when I realized that all the dreams I had had for my life until that point were never going to be my life?
Where was I when I decided that I would just go on living this other life, that I never wished for, that I never imagined?
Where was I when decided to not have new dreams?
Where was I when I gave up?
And you kow what? - I have no fucking clue where I was, or even when this happened.
Life really is this thing that happens when you don't look, and then it's too late.
Good morning Ms. Jones!
Dramedy (drama/ comedy) in the morning. I stepped on the cat, lost balance, tried to hold onto something - unfortunately it was the "not-yet-fixed-to-the-wall" bookshelf that tumbled upon me, while simultaneously I fell into the "not-yet-organized" pile of stuff behind me. Cats screaming, myself screaming, and then trying to move my aching body out from under the shelf. Lots of bruises, ripped shirt, nobody there to help, took the poor, hurt cat to the vet, no time to get my bleeding foot fixed by a doctor. And where is Hollywood when you have a Bridget-Jones moment? Next thing: get a vacation and fix all the "not-yet-fixed" stuff.