Thanks, y’all, for your good wishes. The crankiness appears to be subsiding, slowwwwwwly, helped by a good night’s sleep.
Part of the issue is and what has me so cranky – a little panicked, really – is that although my neck looks much better than it did before surgery, there’s still some sagging under my chin, and I think that it’s really sagging skin rather than swelling. While I know that final results from a neck lift aren’t generally seen for 3 – 6 months after surgery, I don’t think I should be seeing sagging skin.
Yes, I’ll be addressing that with the surgeon when I see him, but I’m not scheduled to see him again ’til the end of April.
I know that, worst case scenario, I’ll need a “touch up” (or whatever they call it. Revision?), but UGH. You know? I wanted this to be done and over with!
When I took my head compression garment off to take a shower Tuesday, I found what feels very much like a swollen lymph node under my left jawline. After discussion with Fred, I left the garment off all day Wednesday, which made no difference in the swollen spot. I finally called my surgeon’s office and talked to a nurse, who told me it could be a swollen lymph node or a pocket of swelling, and in either case it should go away. I’m to continuing wearing the head garment, and keep an eye on the lump, and she’ll call on Monday and check on me – at which point I’m going to ask about the loose skin under my chin and see what she has to say.
(I very well may be a looking-for-trouble drama queen, but I don’t think so.)
Sights from around Crooked Acres.
Due to the longer days, the hens are laying eggs like crazy. We’re getting close to 2 dozen eggs a day!
I was sitting at my computer Wednesday afternoon, and something out under the big pecan tree caught my eye.
“JOE BOB,” I grumbled to myself. “What are you doing out of the back yard?” I got up to go out to yell at him to get his butt back inside the back yard (he’s a pro at slipping out of his collar from time to time, and goes wandering. Luckily, he’s never gone too far.)
Only, on my way to the door, Joe Bob said “Were you talkin’ to me?” I looked down, and there he was, curled up on the cardboard scratcher by my desk. I looked back out under the big pecan tree, and realized that I wasn’t looking at a gray and white cat, I was looking at a BLACK and white cat I’d never seen before.
I stepped on the side porch and called “Kitty kitty kitty!” to him, and he ran right over to me.
There’s something going on with his right eye, but other than that he was in really good shape. I showed him the food bowl (on the porch), and he ate a little to be polite. He let me pet him, and talked to me a little. He hung out on the side porch for a few hours, then wandered off and I haven’t seen him since.
I’m hoping that he (and yes, I checked – he’s a he, but I honestly am unsure whether he’s been neutered or not.) belongs to someone around here, but I’m sure if he doesn’t, he’ll be back around. I’ve temporarily dubbed him Newman.
For comparison purposes, here’s Joe Bob – I think you can see why, when I first saw Newman at a distance, I thought he was Joe Bob.
And THEN, yesterday morning when he woke me up for his morning kiss before he headed off to work, Fred announced “There were two new cats out on the side stoop this morning.” He told me that he’d only gotten a good look at one of them, that it then ran around to the front porch, and when he followed it, it was sitting there with a black cat, not one of ours. The black cat ran off, but Fred emailed me from work to tell me that when he’d left the house, the other cat was sitting on the side stoop.
When I got downstairs a couple of hours later, there was no strange cat to be seen, but a little while later I glanced out and saw a cat running after a bird in the side yard, and there he was, the new guy. Or girl.
Reacher, for comparison purposes:
The one thing I can tell you about this cat (who Fred has dubbed “Rufus”, despite the fact that we don’t know whether it’s male or female just yet) is that s/he really likes our cats. Elwood and Corbie were in the back yard watching the birds, and Rufus was rubbing up against the fence trying to make friends.
Rufus did NOT act like a cat in heat, but that’s my concern, that Rufus is a she, and either pregnant or about to go into heat. So Fred’s shifted into high gear to try to charm Rufus into believing that we’re A-OK. If s/he keeps coming around, we’ll assume s/he has no home, and if we can get our hands on him or her, off to the vet we’ll go.
(Obviously, if Newman keeps coming around, he’ll also get a visit to the vet, but given how friendly he was, I very much suspect he’s got a home.)
2010: Meet his brother, Mr. “THE FUCK YOU SAY!”
2009: Hail Stinky/ Full of Hate/ The Tom is with thee.
2008: The pigs reported that he tasted “Too humany.”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: Dumbass things I did yesterday.
2004: I think I need to go back to high school.
2003: “Well, good luck to Daddy on that,” I said.
2002: (You just shut up)
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.