Life has been crazy in the past week. Last Thursday morning, I woke up to Maxie (my formerly 28 lb cat who is now down to a svelte 18) scratching in my bed because he didn’t make it to the litter box. GOOD MORNING! For the past month or two he’s been walking like a little old man, and since he is a 10-year-old cat, I just thought he was getting old. Old I can handle. Incontinent I can’t. We went to the vet that day. I really thought the vet was going to tell me that I was going to have to put him down. He’s my big fat cat. I was heartbroken about it.
Come to find out, he has diabetes. Monday, he went to the vet for his glucose curve test and his blood sugar was down to just over 400 that morning. (Normal is between 80 and 150.) After his insulin, it was down to 218 by the end of the day. So now every morning, I give my cat an insulin shot with his breakfast. He is perkier and after only two days walking a little better.
From this experience, I have a whole other respect for parents. Honestly, Monday when I had to leave him at the vet’s office, I felt like I was leaving a piece of myself there. I know intellectually that he is a pet not a child. I know there is no real comparison in the two, and I treat him as a very spoiled pet and not as a child. But as I drove away, I had a small inkling of what parents of sick children must feel as they drive away from the hospital leaving their child behind in the care of doctors.
Last night I went to dinner with a bunch of folks who are working reporters and some students after an association meeting. We were talking about many different subjects and gyms and trainers came up. I was talking about mine and how I’m working toward the wedding. Male Reporter, MR, asked what color my dress was going to be. I had been joking about being a hobbit brides maid since I’ll be the shortest person there. When I told him purple, he pointed out to me that I wouldn’t be a hobbit, I’d be the Barney brides maid. Great. Just great. As if my concerns about looking fat weren’t already solidified enough, I now have to worry about looking like Barney! I guess I could just walk down the aisle humming “I love you, You love me, we’re a happy family…” Nah.
It also looks as if the bride’s stepmonster won’t be making an appearance at the wedding. As I mentioned in the last post, P’s aunts and grandparents had a very informal backyard dinner party for P & M when they were here. P’s father and stepmonster weren’t invited. (I can say monter because I’ve known her for over 20 years and she is just about the definition of the evil step mother in that she is two-faced and moody and has done everything in her power to put a wedge between P and her Father for the entire time.) It was a family gathering (P’s Mom, and her parents and sisters) and the Father and Stepmonster aren’t a part of that family. Heck, for the better part of the past few years, Father and Stepmonster haven’t been speaking to P because of various and a sundry perceived slights and insults. Now, because they “aren’t wanted anyway”, Stepmonster is most likely not going to come to the wedding.
Ahh, drama. It is amazing how it follows some people around and how another creates it when life suddenly isn’t all about her any longer.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment