Sunday, October 23, 2011

How much?

A few months ago when I had to make the decision to let my little Echo go it just about killed me. I felt as if I'd failed him. Over the last few years, when I felt as if my life was falling apart, I always made sure that I had my three fur-children taken care of first. I could always go grocery shopping at mom & dad's if things got really desperate. But my "kids" were completely dependent on me.

Shortly after Echo died, Oscar began acting pretty strangely and refusing to eat food he'd always eaten. I figured it was his way of dealing with the loss of his best friend. As long as he was eating, drinking, and using his litterbox properly; I didn't worry overmuch.

But then Oscar stopped eating all together. I tried tempting him with the expensive canned food and tuna. Nothing. He wanted nothing to do with any of it. So off to the vet we went. The last place I'd held my sweet Echo. Oscar had been there before. He's usually pretty calm and happy. The first time the doctor saw him she commented of how relaxed and friendly he was.

Not this time.

He was a hissing, swatting, bundle of fury. Even I wasn't able to avoid a scratch. I ended up having to leave him there for the day so they could sedate and examine him. It turned out he had a pretty gnarly rotted tooth that according to the doctor, "practically fell out" upon examination. I was relieved it was something so simple. I should have known nothing is ever that easy.

That all happened a little over a week ago. Since then at least once a day I've stumbled upon a pile of half to not-at-all digested canned food. I figured he was just being a pig. He was keeping in more than he was expelling so I made a mental note of it and kept moving.

Wouldn't you know it? This weekend he started throwing up every single time he ate. I'm freaking out! His last visit cost me a couple hundred dollars, I didn't budget for the fist visit and sure as heck don't have the funds for another. Not only that but if he does have something terrible wrong how much can I afford/justify to spend? Will they let me establish a payment plan? What is my limit on how far I should go to fix him?

I hate this. He was my only friend when I moved home after college and there were many times he curled up next to me as I cried over the disaster that had become my life. He was the only thing that kept me from taking the ultimate escape on at least one occasion. I knew that no one would care about him as much as I did.

Oscar has really gotten the shaft the last few years. Buster, my dog, doesn't like him and the only time Oscar and I get any quality time is when Buster is outside or I lock him in another room. It's not fair. I have to do better.

Being a responsible adult sucks. 

Thursday, October 20, 2011

The New Job

"Hey there baby girl."

Mindy kept walking. It was her first day the hospital. Her first day anywhere, really. Having spent the last two days reading the massive pile of safety protocol and procedure literature, she wasn't quite ready to have solo interactions with a patient.

"Baaaby giiiirl," the voice called out a little louder, though farther away, Mindy was walking quickly to the medicine locker. She was supposed to meet Dr. Lake there in a few minutes to assist him in handing out the midday doses. She turned the corner, reliever to see the handsome doctor already there.

"You found it," he smiled, causing the slightest crows feet around his dark brown eyes to crinkle.

"I cheated," Mindy laughed nervously, pulling the folded map out of the pocket of her white smock.

"You'll get to know your way around in a few days," he assured her turning to unlock the closet where the medicines for that floor's patients was stored. Already people were beginning to line up on the opposite wall. Procedure was that the nurse on the previous shift would assemble the various doses after distributing that shift's meds. Mindy's job now was to double check the contents and distribute them. Dr. Lake was on hand for a daily check-in with each patient.

It took about 20 minutes to process the patients in line. The doctor still had a few patients waiting to talk to him so Mindy began the process of filling a new set of tiny paper cups with the various pills.

"Before you get started with that, can you please take Mrs. Downy's medicine to her. She had a fall last night and isn't getting around well today. She's in 305."

"Sure," Mindy smiled, looking up Mrs. Downey on her list and gathering the required meds: anti psychotics. Lovely.

"She's a sweetheart, unless she misses a couple doses," he assured her.

Making sure to close and lock the door of the closet, Mindy set off back the way she'd come.

"Baby Girl! You came back to see me," the tiny old woman smiled at Mindy when she entered the room. "I knew you would." According to the chart Mindy had glanced at a few minutes ago Mrs. Helen Downy was 79 years old and had been a patient here for the last 15 years.

"Hello Mrs. Downy, I'm Nurse Holmes. I have your medicine," Mindy held out the little paper cup.

"Oh I know who you are," the old woman said ignoring Mindy's outstretched hand to lean away and rummage through her bedside table. "I have something I want to give you, Mindy."


For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week Kristen Doyle challenged me with "You're a nurse in a psychiatric hospital. One of the patients, who is known to be delusional, tells you something that could solve a decades-old murder case in your town. Do you believe the patient and investigate? Or do you write the patient off as being an unreliable source of information?" and I challenged Caroline with "You've won!"

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Just An Old-Fashioned Love Song

I read a book about a million years ago and fell in love with the author's voice and sense of humor. In the notes at the back of the book the author mentioned that she had a blog.

This was around 2004/2005 back before everyone and their cat had blogs, so I was all up in this. In fact after combing through her archives from her first post to her most recent I was hooked. I also had to have one of these blog things. Here it is. Warning: I was kinda nuts for the majority of the time I blogged so it may not be a very happy or orderly place.

So back to this blogger. Reading though her archives really made me feel like I knew her. She had a message board community I got involved in she used to have meet-ups for her readers to all get together and hang out. I missed the last one by a year or so.

This blogger got married a while after I began reading her blog and of course she blogged all about it. She shared with us a video from the wedding day where friends of hers, that were in a band, played a song they'd written just for her and her husband. The song kicked ass. I soon bought the entire album and her wedding song went straight into my most played list. I would listen to it and wish for my very own love story to begin.

A few years passed. I blogged a lot. Made some kick-ass internet friends. Even met a few in person. Learned to podcast. I got pretty busy with my own internet life. I didn't really notice that the person who'd inspired me to get it all started had gone quiet.

It ended up taking me a while to piece together what had happened. Her message group had been shut down long before due to the influx of spammers and too few administrators so I hadn't been able to corroborate with them to figure out what was going on.

Eventually she came back to her website and has been knocking me out of my chair with the funny every time she posts. It was obvious her marriage had not worked out. She started talking about dating again and there were Twitter Pics of a new guy in her life.

Now every time that wedding song comes up on my iPod I can't help but cringe. The song all about love and having finally found "The One" hadn't turned out like it was supposed to. That makes me sad. The song means nothing to me, anymore.

For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Ixy challenged me with "Music means nothing to me" and I challenged Michael with "No, this can't be happening. It's too early!".

P.S. I intentionally did not link to the blogger I mentioned. It just seemed a little too "invasion of privacy" seeing as she never came out and spoke of how it all went down.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

D-I-Y-ing to get something done.

I picked up the picture frame at TJ Maxx over the summer. It was hot pink. It was also very inexpensive and with my innate cheapness I was able to see it spray panted white and going very well with my half finished bedroom decor.

I typically hand these kinds of projects over to my mom. She has all of the tools and could do it in about a 1/4 the time it would take me. Most of the time she's happy to do them, but there are a few lovely tufted chairs, an art deco desk and a sewing desk currently all in various stages of completion. I'm not going to quibble (much) she does it all for me for free.

I owe a lot of my craftiness and problem solving skills to my mom. She grew up in the 60's and had many, many aunts uncles and cousins around all the time. She learned to sew at an early age, and being the oldest of three was my granddads little helper for a long time before my uncle came along. I've heard a lot of stories about the dangerous stunts she and her cousins used to pull. To this day it seems, there might still be underground tunnels creeping all over the property where my great grandma lived. A cousin bought the house and property after her death, so we are lucky to still have it in the family.

Now that I have my own home and my very own garage I have my very own project to begin. I didn't even think about taking it to my mom and dad's house, but straight to my own. That was about six months ago, so it looks like I've also inherited my mom's sense of urgency. Granted it is a project that needs to stay in the garage and it gets way too hot here in the summer to spend much time there. Yesterday's sudden change in weather reminded me that the garage should be nice and cool for a while and I'll need to get cracking on my project.

It's a dresser. I haven't a clue what period it is from or inspired by, but I love it. It has four levels of drawers, the top divided into two smaller drawers, with a big curvy mirror that attaches to the top. I want to turn it into my dressing area. Right now it is a dark natural wood stain, but I want to paint it a shade darker than my grey walls and stencil the front with a large white fluer-de-lis type design. Or maybe black or white chevrons? Pintrest has me going crazy with ideas.

Knowing myself, the dresser will probably still be sitting in the middle of the garage this time next year.

Hey, wait a minute!

I'm trying to be nicer about myself and that wasn't very nice. So instead I'll turn this into a challenge. I'm going to get started on my "new" dresser this weekend. Yep. No more putting things off. Especially things that would make me very happy.

Pictures to come!

For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Summer challenged me with, "Look around you right now, pick an item and write a story about it" and I challenged Cedar with "Remember the fable of the Lion and the Mouse? If not look it up. Write about a situation from the prospective of the lion".