These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Me and Joe, Joe and Me
Neither of us is as healthy as we've been.
• Went to the vet with my tomcat. He had an attack of some sort Sunday morning (see post below) and it really frightened me. However, neither the emergency vet I spoke to Sunday nor my regular vet thought it was that serious.
The vet checked Joe out thoroughly and suspects it was his arthritis that made him collapse. Look at this recent photo, taken because he looks so sweet curled up like a little fur shrimp. It reveals something: he can no longer retract his back claws. Reaching for Rey's food on Sunday, that fast and sudden movement, probably caused him so much pain that he went down. The vet also did a blood panel, "just to be sure."
I'm expecting bad news. I mean, he's 20 years old and though he eats with gusto, he's losing weight. I don't want to hear diabetes or cancer. Especially not diabetes. My poor boy is already dealing with a special, prescription diet and a squirt of medication in his mouth every evening. I don't want to add twice daily injections. It's not fair to either of us.
But for now, he's sitting beside me. Comfortable, affectionate and happy. I wish we could freeze this moment and stay like this forever.
* Me. So far today I've eaten two hard boiled eggs, four fish sticks and half a sleeve of Ritz Crackers. After I finish this post, I may have something else: a cup of applesauce or some dry Rice Krispies (I still can't have dairy). This makes me so sad, I could cry.
I have not had a real meal in over a month (December 23). I'm burpy. I'm bloated. Every morning is still a surprise in the bathroom. My urine is brown (antibiotics) to combat the yellow bowel movements. Some days I'm constipated, other days I have diarrhea. It's not unusual with C. diff.
I can't have pizza. I can't have pasta. I can't have burgers. I shouldn't miss this stuff so much, as I'm seldom hungry.
As I write this, it's late Tuesday night. I run out of antibiotics on Thursday. I hope, hope, hope I'll be better then. But I'm not confident.
I know it could be worse. I know I could have more than one episode/day. It's a bad way to start the day, but it's only in the morning. I don't have chills. I don't have fatigue. I'm not vomiting.
But I'm tired. I'm bored. I'm weary. I want my life back.
I know my doctor. She's good. If I'm not feeling better by Valentine's Day, we'll try something else. She'll get me well. But it's hard to stay positive.
Posted by The Gal Herself at 1/26/2016 10:49:00 PM 2 comments:
Labels: Cats, Depression, sick
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