My week last week was, messed up, quite frankly. Or to acquisition a word (more appropriately, an acronym) used by my mate Ben, "FUBAR"! I have no idea why, but I'm compelled to recall it, in blog form, perhaps as a means of catharsis. And now begins, the redux:
{
saturday}
Last Saturday to be exact, when I returned home to my darling cat, who always greets me by chewing me out for leaving him alone so long...only this time, he looked a bit like Rocky, with his left eye swollen, and watering quite copiously. I recognized the symptoms as those of a recurrent eye infection - the poor little fella has had herpes in that eye since birth, thanks to his feline Mum so his cute, sweet vet tells me. No big deal - I figure its something that can wait til the vet office opens on Monday.
{
sunday}
By Sunday night the swelling has gone down, and Hobie can open his eye fully and its no longer light sensitive nor watering, although its starting to become goopy.
{
monday}
Monday morning I call the vet the moment they open. I speak to a veterinary assistant, relay to her Hobie's symptoms, she puts me on hold, comes back and says essentially it doesn't seem too much of a rush, and the first appointment available with Hobie's cute vet is Tuesday at 3pm. We set that in stone, and I go on with my day.
{
tuesday}
Tuesday comes and Hobie is looking no worse for the wear, I go to work, and then leave work early to come back, chase him, load him in his carrier, haul his yowling body outdoors and endure his pathetic wailing the entire drive to West St. Paul. This is a drive that typically takes 40 minutes during that time of day (though seems longer) but for whatever strange reason, only took 20 - making us half an hour early for his appointment. No worries, we're able to get him weighed and the VA sees us into an examination room, where I let him out of his carrier to explore the room. Hobie, of course, is NONE too happy about being at the vets, and seeks for whatever means of escape he can find - including but not limited to, flattening himself on the examination table, trying to duck back INTO his carrier (if only it were that easy to get him in there when we were at home), hiding under a chair, exploring a means of opening a low-lying window, crawling under a step stool much too small to harbor his body, and my favorite - Hobie's discovery of, and desperate attempt to pry open a cupboard beneath a sink in the exam room.
This attempt lasted quite sometime until, he gave up on life and curled up in a corner, becoming as small as he could, and shaking like a leaf. In the distance, I recognized the voice of the Doctor, so scooped Hobie up and plopped him on the table in time for the vet to walk in and greet us. There are many parts to this story, but I'll cut to the chase because I realize I'm still only on Tuesday and this week has seven days. We get Hobie situated and immobilized on the examination table so the Doctor can look him over. We're both expecting to see and confirm what we've seen a few times with Hobie: herpes in his left eye. The vet takes a close look and then says "Wait a minute..." he looks for some items at his work station, they are not there - he dashes out of the room quickly asking "Where's my stuff?" he comes back a few moments later with some special drops or maybe it was a piece of paper with dye on the tip, or maybe it was both, and a special light. He applies the dye and/or drops to Hobie's eye, flips off the light and looks into Hobie's eye using the special eye-thing with the blue/purple light. He then goes "Huh. I want to show you something...look at this..." He cranes Hobie's head towards me, keeping his eye pried open and I can see this huge basically, blob-like thing flourescing under the special UV-like light. And the vet says "THAT is an ulcer." The vet then explains to me what this ulcer is, and how it happens and the steps we have to go through to treat it - this includes, (a) first order of business - the vet getting a q-tip and scraping the broken layer of cornea off Hobie's eye (miraculously, Hobie held still and didn't fuss this entire time - the Doctor told me normally they have to put cats and dogs under anesthesia to do this, so its a miracle Hobie withstood it - he also said, that Hobie can't feel it but can see what he's doing) 2 or (b) administering two types of drops to Hobie's eye, twice a day - one for the eye infection (turns out not Herpes this time, but conjunctivitis) and some drops for the ulcer; and 3 or (c) Hobie's new fashion which he LOVES - an e-collar! He gets to wear that for the next three weeks to keep him from scratching his eye until 4 or (d) we go in for a check up to make sure his eye is healing ok - and there is a whole story about that too (which involves, it could end up looking "like something out of a horror movie" while healing - as so eloquently put by the cute vet). Here is Hobie, post vet visit, at home - enjoying his "new look":
Hobie, despite all the trauma of having the top layer of his cornea scraped off, the adjustments to the e-collar and how it affects the way he eats, sleeps, drinks and uses his litter - has been a little saint, and patiently allows me to give him the daily drops without fussing or anything. And he doesn't even hate me for caging him in that darn collar. Its not been fun for either of us, as he has his occasional freak-outs trying to get it off, and its rather sad because he can't give me the little kisses he wants to anymore, he ends up with a sore neck, and I end up with a sore face because I get banged by his collar in the middle of the night. Poor fella. So that was Tuesday.
{
wednesday}
The events of Tuesday had left me in a funk. I've had so many scares with my little boy Hobie, that I had completely forgotten about the spectre of layoffs that had been looming at work for quite some time. But then, while in the photo studio art directing a shoot, one of my co-workers came barreling through the studio and shouted "Been nice knowing you! I got my packet!" We were all staggered. I was happy there was a chair behind me as I dropped down into it. The word trickled through the company, and everyone was frozen in place as they waited and wondered if they would be called in and let go. By 2 pm, the lay offs were over and thank God, I still had a job. This is the fourth round of lay offs I've made it through. I understand why they are happening and recognize the need for it, but am so very thankful I am still employed. Every day I get to come in to work is a blessing. We ended our day with two different meetings explaining what happened and then were allowed to go home and decompress. I went home to Hobie, who shockingly, and thankfully was happy to see me, despite the fact I was the one imprisoning him in an uncomfortable collar and forcing him to get two sets of eyedrops in his hurting eye, twice a day. The evening passed in a blur, as I comforted my ailing cat, tried to process the events of the day, and came to the realization that two friends I had grown to care very deeply for were no longer talking to me for reasons I couldn't fathom, right when I felt I could use their support the most. But I thank God I still had Ben and Jen, who were there to (in Jen's case) share confusion and sorrow with me, and (in Ben's case) be a nice ear to listen and mate to commiserate with.
{
thursday}
Thursday - my two year anniversary at work, and a day that was sort of like the Zombie Apocalypse. Everyone was stumbling around work, navigating their way through their daily tasks like automatons. I guess its no wonder then, that while filling my cup with (scalding - as I found out) hot water from the coffee machine, that I zoned out, and without realizing, accidentally moved my cup-holding hand (which was wearing one half of a pair of fingertip-less gloves) into the stream of (scalding) hot water. I put the cup down right quick, but because of my glove wicking up the water, I now had scalding hot water right close to my skin. I ripped the glove off and tried to play it cool (thank goodness for my high pain threshold). I calmly went to the bathroom and ran my hand under cold water, but not soon enough. I watched as my middle and ring finger on my left hand started to bubble up with second-degree burns like something out of a horror movie. I had successfully boiled my hand while making tea. YAY! I managed to acquire ointment from the work first aid kit, and medical tape, but no gauze was to be had so I had to make do with the saran wrap-like quality of work's toilet paper. It did the trick though, and it got me through the work day. By the time the clock was nearing quitting time, I had had it. Exhausted emotionally, mentally and in physical pain, I was fortunately let out early, and retreated home - but with a side trip to SuperTarget's first aid section, where I bought ointments, gauze and medical tape. I got home, and discovered that Hobie (bless his little heart) had some how, e-collar and all, gotten himself stuck in his cubby hole. He had to have backed in, because there was no way he could have gone in head first. There he was, plaintively mewing from inside it, trying to force his way out, but the collar blocking his way. I have no idea how long he was in there - typically he goes in around 10 a.m. every day, I had arrived home at 6:30 pm. He might have been there for hours. What with my painfully burned hand, and a terrified cat, it took me about an hour to pry him out of there. I had to pull the collar off over his head, fortunately, I had it on there loose enough I was able to do that, but not loose enough he could pull it off himself. After this adventure, I decided to change the dressing on my second degree burns and survey the damage. They had finally finished blowing up to their full glory. I was so grossed out, I took a picture.
That doesn't even do it justice. The rest of me week...unfortunately there was more of it left...was a bit less shall we say, "exciting". Mainly its been spent adapting to my new limited mobility with my bubbly left hand, and medicating my cat. I was so exhausted from all the events that Friday, I went to bed at 6:25 pm, and didn't wake up until 9:25 a.m. Saturday. It was only by power of will that I dragged myself out of bed, I could have slept for hours more. But Saturday was a beautiful, sun-filled day and held the promise of family, and a birthday celebration for my brother. Time with family and some good Mom-cooking was a much needed anti-dote, though, I still feel quite drained. I think the worst is over, and I'm planning on making this week a much better one. I still have a job, my cat will be fine, and I don't have third degree burns! :)
Everything is coming up Kristi.
True
