beauty in the breakdown

[verbicide]

God, am I tired.

It's been a really busy few weeks. Something going on every day, so many people to catch up with. Sort of a frenetic, end of summer energy.

I feel like I need to take a day or two to just chill at home, curl up with a book and just mellow out. Make soup. Something like that.

I've been anxious about Hobbes. The vet visit was today, and to build up some courage,

We had a lovely chat and I just have to say this one thing about him. I love that I can say pretty much whatever I'm feeling to him, and he doesn't freak out. Not that we're anywhere near talking seriously about getting married or having children, but if I'm having some emotional spasm, I can talk to him about it and know he'll take it in the spirit intended and not run shrieking for the hills. In fact, I tend to be the one running shrieking, while he laughs and tells me that having these feelings is natural.

Well, they're not natural for me. Most of my life I've icked the concept of marriage and babies. Sure, partly as a defense mechanism, but I don't have a scrapbook full of my dream wedding and I never cooed at baby clothes. Then Judy and Stacey turned out to have the same secret baby name. And they asked me, and I couldn't speak. This weekend, I told Greg. And ever since I've told him, I find my mind whisperedly murmuring the name, imaging a mélange of our best features. Ack ack ack.

Trying to understand what's brought out this raging fecundity, and I think it's my worries about Hobbsie. I was telling Greg that I'm terrified of having kids, because I think I would be a freaking basket case. They'd have to wear a helmet 24/7 until they were 18 and live indoors. I can't stand that Hobbsie has this problem that I can't make go away forever.


So Hobbes and I set out for the pharmacy to pick up insulin and needles. That was the first panic. I held the box of needles in my hands and felt faint. I started to whisper, "I can't fucking do this, I can't fucking do this." but then realized, that I didn't have a choice.

I was so nervous driving to the vet that I actually drove right past it and had to circle around to get back. The visit went fine, Dr Henkle knows her shit and we talked about balancing the three problems he has: asthma, diabetes and low kidney function. Of course the treatments for all three of those screw with each other. So we're starting with a broncho dilator, insulin, and a low protein diet. And we're just going to have to see how he does. I hate that part. I hate the uncertainty.

Dr Henkle left and a lab tech came in to teach me how to inject him. I'm still stunned by how much that freaked me out. Hobbes was pretty much oblivious. I thought I was going to pass out, throw up, and cry. Simultaneously.

I seriously couldn't just do it. She finally had me pantomime the action with my fingers. I finally did it. Hobbes really didn't react. But it was still godawful. Why am I such a chickenshit when it doesn't even phase him? I mean, thank god he didn't meow or twitch or so much as give me a reproachful look.

The lab tech swears it'll get easier. It has to.

He also got his rabies vaccination updated so he can come with me to Vancouver if needed. My darling jeff_nw has very generously offered to be on kitty-patrol when I'm gone, and I'll certainly take him up on that when really needed, but I don't want to exploit his kindness. More praise for Greg: When I asked him if he would mind Hobbes coming with me, he was immediately on board, offering to buy a litter pan, food, and whatever was needed on his end to make Hobbes comfortable.

I took Hobbsie home and watched him for half an hour in case he reacted to the vaccination, but he was fine.

Off to KC and Jen's for a group birthday party for KC (37), Judy (33), and Andrey (30). It was just fantastic. I was feeling a bit worn out beforehand, raw from the vet visit, and generally tired. But I really love this group of people and don't get to see them very often.



one Alton Brown recipe corndog
one hush puppy
two butterflied, breaded shrimp
three lumpia
one nugget batter fried halibut
three strips chicken katsu
one tablespoon curried pea salad
one tablespoon baked potato salad
portion macaroni salad
one small square chocolate cake
one small scoop vanilla ice cream
one small sliver berry pie
quarter portion berry torte


We splayed out under the backyard canopy and brimmed with camaraderie and happy conversation. Jen's family was there, and they are absolutely fantastic, as were KC's two aunties. Sarah, Jen's sister, had her adorable baby.

Stuffed and sedate, I watched John bounce the baby on his knee. Suddenly there was laughter from Rob, Jeanne and Kim. Why? Somehow the filter that controls my outside voice had failed and I had audibly murmured that my uterus hurt.

Yeah, I went beet red and hid. This delighted Rob to no end and he proclaimed it endearing and said I shouldn't be embarrassed, as Jeanne chortled that she could understand why I was. Rob is never going to let me live this down. The rest of the evening he'd pick his moments and rub his belly with a knowing look at me. Eeep. I love him, but I did threaten to have him killed.

Gifts were passed around. We ooh'd and ahh'd and despite nearly bursting to capacity, we kept picking at the food. Finally Jen started filling plastic sacks with plums and pears from Chuck and Kim's orchards and the crowd thinned. Much hugging and kissing and promises to get together soon at Kelly and Rob's for a dominoes party.

Home at last, I watched the clock anxiously. I prepped Hobbsie's wet food, stuffed the Theodur pill in it. I got out the insulin from the fridge and a needle from the box. I felt pretty shivery. I set the food down and Hobbes began his starved-refugee consumption. I poked him and pushed the plunger. Withdrew it to find I'd only given him 2 of the 3 units. So yes, I had to poke him again. He didn't seem to give a damn, but I was kind of shaky on my feet. I know I'm being a big baby about this, but it's really disturbing me. It'll get better. I know, I know. I should be glad it wasn't an ordeal, that I don't have to chase him around and hear him squeal in pain or anything. Just the thought of that makes me pale.

Why am I such a sissy? Why?? I've done surgery on frogs, I've stitched up my cousin's foot, torn apart from a stumble onto shark bait. I had no problem dissecting any number of dead animals. I'm really not a wimp. Gah.

Anyhow. I did it. It's over.

Tomorrow I have to mind Jeff and Ellie's dogs and go to another birthday party. I also need to clean my flat and find some time to sit on the couch and read. Finally got around to Jhumpa Lahiri's Interpreter of Maladies and am finding it as excellent as reported.

Comments

[devinshire.livejournal.com]

I know you already know this, but you are NOT a sissy for freaking out about sticking your beloved cat in the neck (I'm assuming in the neck?) with a needle! I would've been a basketcase.

It was Andrey's birthday?!? Did you spank him for me? ;P

[verbicide.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Dev :) It was in the neck and I did it again this morning and was less shaky, though I still hate it.

Re: Andrey - I didn't spank him, but I did give him a smooch! :D

[euphrasie.livejournal.com]

Aw :( Hang in there!

[verbicide.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Jody! :)