1/24/11 – Monday

I posted an entry on Saturday with a Starsky & Hutch (now Percy & Jack) update! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   I just spent at least two minutes talking to a cat who was sitting under my … Continue reading “1/24/11 – Monday”

I posted an entry on Saturday with a Starsky & Hutch (now Percy & Jack) update!

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I just spent at least two minutes talking to a cat who was sitting under my desk, up against my foot. I talked to it, petted it with the foot it wasn’t laying up against, and then finally peeked under the desk to see just which cat it was.

It was a slipper. No wonder it wouldn’t purr.

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I had a productive day on Saturday, cleaned the hell out of the kitchen, vacuumed the entire house, put a lot of stuff away. By the end of Saturday, I was looking around the house, pleased and feeling a sense of accomplishment.

And then Sunday morning I walked downstairs, skidded through a pile of cold cat barf, and found half a pound of litter kicked out of the litter boxes in the laundry room.

You just can’t have anything nice with these damn cats around, I’m telling you.

Sunday morning, we went to Lowe’s as soon as they opened, and bought four pieces of wood. When we got home, Fred unloaded the truck, and then made a raised (garden) bed out of the wood. Behind the back yard, there are now two raised beds, which are the property of me myself and I, and this summer I will have an herb garden, I’ll grow some tomatoes, and I haven’t decided what-all else. I’ll probably give catnip a try again. Fred’s promised to fence in my two raised beds so that cats can’t use them as litter boxes this year.

Next weekend we’re going to fill the raised bed (and top off the other beds) with compost and soil, and then when planting time starts, they’ll be all ready for the planting. I wanted to get them done and ready for planting, since I’ll have about six weeks after surgery where I won’t be able to lift much, and will have to take it easy. When I’m able to lift again, it’ll be planting time – or just about – and I won’t have to fret about getting the raised bed built and filled, it’ll be all ready for me!

Oh, and speaking of the surgery, I had my pre-op appointment with the plastic surgeon on Friday. I had to have my pictures taken for their before-and-after files, and got all my instructions on when to show up, got my prescriptions, a list of what to buy beforehand to have at home.

I need to buy a zip-front sports bra in a NON-cotton material to wear for a few weeks after surgery. This might be a spectacularly stupid question, but feel free to weigh in: how the hell do I know what size to buy? I assume there’s going to be a difference in my bra size after surgery, but I didn’t think of asking the surgeon for an estimation on what cup size I’ll be after surgery. Right now I’m a 36DDD. Should I assume I’ll go down to a C or D, and go by that assumption? What y’all think? Suggestions, opinions? (And, yes, I’ll call and talk to the nurse, but it’s hours yet ’til the office opens and I wanna know NOW.)

When I left the plastic surgeon’s office, I went to a testing center near the hospital to have my blood drawn. Now, last Wednesday when I had my physical, my doctor knew I was going to be having blood drawn as part of my pre-op hijinx, so she gave me a lab slip to give to the lab tech, so I’d only have to be stuck once. When I signed in at the testing center, I told the lady at the front desk that I had two lab slips.

As it turned out, the tests ordered by my primary doctor are covered by insurance and the tests ordered by my surgeon are not (he has a contract with the testing center, so it cost me $50 out of pocket for those). No one at the testing center knew what the hell to do about my two lab orders from two different doctors, how to enter them into the computer (together? separately?), and so there was much conferring and side glances in my direction. It didn’t help that my primary doctor hadn’t dated or signed her lab orders, so they had to call her office and get them to fax over new orders.

In the end, the lab tech took 10 vials of blood, told me that since both doctors had ordered a CBC, he’d put that under my primary care doctor’s name, along with a note for them to fax over the results to my surgeon.

I predict lots of confusion this week as my primary doctor’s office and the surgeon’s office try to figure out what the hell is going on.

Tomorrow, I have my mammogram. If something’s going to show up on my labs or mammogram to fuck up surgery, this’ll be the week.

Thank god the 12 inches of snow they were predicting for Tuesday night/ Wednesday is now no longer supposed to arrive here in Alabama. Last Fall, Fred told me that he’d read somewhere that we were supposed to have a fairly mild Winter. NOT SO MUCH, we’re finding out.

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Friday night, Greg Brady was adopted – and his new Mom left a comment here, yay! Things are going well, and Greg Brady is now Riley, and has charmed his new family. That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, because he was certainly a total lovebug when he was here!!

No Bradys were adopted on Saturday, which means that Bobby, Jan, and Peter are still at Petsmart. I think that three adoptions in less than a week is pretty good, and I don’t doubt that the other three will go quickly.

Some more Brady pics from my hard drive:

Sweet Cindy Brady.

Cindy, snuggling with Peter. LOVE the stretching toes.

Cindy, Bobby, Greg & Peter, on the Ham-Mick in the front room.

Cindy, on the Ham-Mick in the computer room, playing with a toy mouse (you can see the pink tail of the toy mouse by her front paw).

“If I don’t look at them, they aren’t there…” (Miz Poo with Alice and Jan.)

Cindy and the sparkly ball.

Since the Bradys have left the house, Alice has really come out of her shell. She was getting playful while they were here, but now she’s SUPER playful. Every night, you’ll see her run into the front room at top speed followed by Jake or Reacher, and then a moment later Jake or Reacher runs out of the room followed by Alice. She’s got a favorite sleeping spot in every room, and she’s turned into the friendliest little girl. She loves to be held, she loves to be petted, and she particularly loves to be kissed.

She’s been doing this thing, pretty much ever since we got her, where she sounds congested several times a day. At first we thought it was an upper respiratory infection, so treated it with antibiotics. Then we thought it could be due to worms, so we treated her with dewormer (which we would have done anyway). Both of those helped a little, but didn’t eradicate the problem. Lysine and chlorphenaramine made it worse. Friday, we took Alice to the vet.

The vet checked her over and pronounced her healthy (Alice now weighs 4.5 pounds – the vet doesn’t think she’ll get much bigger), and after talking to us for a while, said that she wanted to rule out a polyp. Alice needs to have a tiny tube threaded up her nostril so that they can see whether she’s got a polyp growing behind her soft palate and if there’s one there, they’ll pluck it out. Unfortunately, the vet we usually use for Challenger’s House cats doesn’t have the equipment to do that procedure, so we’ll have to go elsewhere. Hopefully that’ll happen this week.

In the meantime, Alice doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about her occasional snarfling, but it certainly bugs ME.

Alice loooooooves Fred.

Loves to BITE him, that is!

Smug little face.

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Last night, I had a vivid dream that I received an email from someone who was desperate to adopt Corbett and promised to do whatever it took.

I woke up excited, thought perhaps it was a prescient dream, and ran to check my email.

Alas. No such email. No one dying to adopt Corbie.

I’m offended on his behalf. Hmph.

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Maxi does her Tony Soprano imitation. Really, you just don’t wanna mess with her.

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2010: Update on Gus & Mike (now Topher & Dorian)
2009: No entry.
2008: The Annoying of the Poo, a step-by-step instructional guide.
2007: I’d sell all the kitties into kitty slavery for an iPhone.
2006: “Y’all shut UP. I don’t hear you complaining when you run around FARTING on everyone.”
2005: Letters.
2004: No entry.
2003: I swear, I have no control over my body sometimes.
2002: The shithole on Goddard Street.
2001: Lucky for her I’ve calmed down to a growling grumpiness, or it wouldn’t be a very good time to be the spud.
2000: We’re a pathetic lot, aren’t we?