Tuesday, November 1, 2011

11.1.11

It's Biiiiiiiiiirrrrrrth Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay Month!!!!!

Yay me.

I celebrated? With boobie surgery. And all went well, of course, because it's BIRTHDAY MONTH and nothing else would do!

I had to be at the hospital at 7 a.m. Let me reiterate: Seven. A.M. That's EARLY. I don't know when I got home, sometime around Judge Joe Brown, which is in the 3-4 p.m. timeframe. Kenny had the bed all nice and fluffed up for me, turned on mindless Judge shows (I was waiting for Judy, she's my favorite to sleep through), but I was o.u.t. in seconds.

Just got up around 7:00, blogging as I signed up for that blog-a-day-for-a-month thing, and today is Day 1. So here it is, but it's really taking a lot of effort to get this much down, so all you need to know is:

1/ I didn't die today (so far)
2/ It wasn't too bad
3/ Vicodin rocks
4/ Popeye's Chicken seems to be my official "you had a scary day" meal
5/ Kenny had his first day of orientation for his new job at the casino!
6/ My friend The Healthy Hoff is the best!!
7/ Boobie hurts a little bit now, but there's a cure for that

There you go. Aren't you happy now. Ha.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Almost Halloween 2011



Pretty Fall evening in Ohio.

Kenny & I got up at noon on Sunday. We went directly to a movie, and saw the new Justin Timberlake disaster, something about running out of time. Wow. Bad. Really really really bad.

Then, we had tickets to a fundraiser at the chain restaurant next to the theater. We supported St. Jude's Children's Hospital by eating Subway sammichs, hotwings and cookies. That's my kinda charity work, frankly.

We were watching the football game. And suddenly I had to leave. I was just itchy, jumpy - restless. I hadn't seen daylight, or not much of it anyway.

So I ditched the party. I was going to go home and get some Sunday Things done around the house, but I drove right by the towpath trail and decided to turn in. The sun was shining, the air was crisp. I was going for a walk. I happened to have my camera in my purse and captured some of the scenery.

I had forgotten how nice it is to spend time on the towpath. I used to go there a lot, back in my old married life. I had a bike rack and would bike along the path, or walk my dog. Nowadays, it's more difficult as Kenny is NOT Mr. Outdoorsman. But I decided that while he may not be, I like a little communing with nature in the form of a walk along the trail.

It did a lot to restore balance in my mood. I hope to do more of it before the snow flies. But no pressure on myself, I don't want to take away the pure enjoyment of it by setting guidelines and timetables.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Itsy Bitsy

Tracye: "I think a spider crawled on my face at night and laid eggs under my skin. Look at this lump I have right by my hairline."

Shows Kenny lump.

Kenny: "Yep, it sure does look like a spider bite."

Tracye, freaking out: "I didn't really THINK it was a spider bite, now I'm freaked the fuck out that a spider was crawling around on my face at night!!! Do you think it laid eggs??"

Later that evening:

Tracye: "You know, those cats should really keep those spiders offa my face at night. That's the least they can do, right? Those cats are lazy fuckers."

Now I'm mad at the cats. And if my face hatches spiders, I'm going to be REALLY mad at Kenny, too.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

With a Capital "D"


The new cat went missing on Wednesday. She had done exactly what I had told her not to do: messed with Girlie.

Girlie don't play that shit.

Girlie is the Queen of the Castle.

And Girlie got her in her cross-hairs, and it was Game Over for the little one. We awoke Wednesday morning to caterwauling and fur flying. I spanked Girlie, loved the little one, and calmed her down, leaving her high on a table when I went to work.

And that was the last we saw of her.

At first we thought she was just back under the bed hiding. But nope, she was not. We figured wherever she was, she'd come out sooner rather than later. By Thursday evening, I'm starting to get worried, because we haven't seen hide nor hair.

I pestered My Mister until he started searching around for her with me. He had kept assuring me she'd come out eventually, but I wasn't sure she hadn't had a heart attack from fear and we'd find her by the eventual stink.

We turned over every square inch of our house. We have a small house. It's 2 -bedrooms. We looked in every probable and improbable place. Kitchen cupboards. In the 1-inch of space between fridge and wall. Under every piece of furniture. Every nook & cranny, until it was determined that she just wasn't here. Houdini Cat.

And then, I panicked as I thought of the one place she could have possibly gotten that we hadn't checked. We have a vent, where the vent cover just rests against the wall, and some cables come out of it that run from somewhere into our house and operates Things. I don't really know, but I think it's running phone lines and television lines from the upstairs (our house) to the downstairs house, as we split stuff.

Thanks to Mr. Non-HandyMan, the cover just rests against the wall.

It was knocked over.

You see where I'm going with this? Is the cat stuffed between the floor/walls of our two houses?? Dear Garth, that would be a nightmare. We wouldn't be able to get her out. My little black one was helping me investigate, sticking her nose into the hole while we were meowing into it to see if we elicited a response, and checking into spaces too difficult to see with a little hand-held mirror.

Friday nights at my house are really Dream Date nights.

Eventually we decided to move our efforts to the basement. The door to our kitchen had been opened for a while, as Toby went exploring, but we didn't think the new cat would be so bold as to take a big leap out into the Great Unknown. We had half-heartedly checked the basement anyway between Wednesday & Friday, but it's really too difficult to tackle all the nooks & crannies down there, especially with all of Kenny's business shit down there. There's just too much stuff, despite the cleaning out we embarked on thanks to our summer flood.

We looked again down there. Calling and meowing and shining flashlights, as we had no other options, she clearly was not in the house.

And finally we heard something. A bump in the night. The faintest of faint "me-ows". Coming from what could have been the ceiling, or a vent in the ceiling, or the wall.

We narrowed down our search to a corner of the basement, which was piled high with stuff we store down there.

We shined the light everywhere. No little pair of eyes glowing back at us.

And then, I heard it again. Mew. She has a weird mew-er to begin with, kind of deep and raspy and hard to hear under the best circumstances.

We determined she was under the stairwell, which is of course where we have a ton of shit/boxes stored. Heavy stuff that we need one day, but not anytime soon. It was an obstacle course to get back there, and Kenny started just chucking heavy boxes all over the room, and then shit started falling and it was a disaster. But then he finally caught a glimpse of shining eyes.

In the farthest back corner underneath the stairs a cat could possible get. We're not sure if she got back there and got stuck, because it was a pretty tight squeeze, or if she was just that much of an asshole that she wasn't helping us on purpose. He cleared some space and she gained some footing and ran like a shot out of that hidey-hole.

Directly into the part of the basement that's my storage and laundry area. Which by the way is where we had the majority of flooded items and it's relatively cleaned up back there.

Still couldn't find her.

So we said, "Fuck this shit!" and left for drinks. Several drinks.

Checked again when we came home, after she'd had a chance to calm down. We were vewy-vewy quiet. I mewed a few times, kitty-style. But I tried to keep it sounding like Friendly Kitty instead of like a big mean bitchy Girlie kitty.

I heard a mew. She finally peeped her little head out from the 2 inches of space between the furnace and the floor. She is an exceptional hider, we would have never found her there.

She did a good job of dusting.




The cobwebs blend in with her fur, but she had a little veil on over her face. I was kind of scared to touch her as webs frighten me, but in the interest of the Greater Good (getting that cat located and hauled back into the house), I did it. And then we took a picture, because at that point we needed to find some humor in the situation.

She came upstairs and had a good meal and a lot of pets, and stayed on the bed with us for a good long while. She pooped in the litter box (I don't even want to think about where she pooped/peed from Wednesday-Friday, but I'm sure one day we'll discover it). And all was right in the world.

Until 6:00 a.m., when I heard more hissing & running around the house. I jumped out of bed but didn't see anything.

She's been under the spare bed since. I fed her there, she's been through a lot.

She may have to go back to her original mama, despite original mama's allergies. I can't have a distressed, picked-on cat who hides under the bed. That's no good life. For her or us.

Timmy (downstairs) said he'd try her out, he only has 1 cat and a dog. He's not sure the cat will like it, but he'll try her out on Sunday when he's home, see how she does.

If that doesn't work, she'll have to go back. We really like her, she's a good girl, and I wanted to help her allergic mama out, but it may not be a good solution.

The upside? She was NOT in the walls. Because that would have spelled D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R.


Sunday, October 23, 2011

Debut

Here she is, our newest addition. She's pretty enough. She was out today, the other cats were on the back porch soaking up the last of a sunshiny day that October gratuitously offered.

She was rolling around in a little bit of catnip. Figure I should mellow her ass out a little bit, maybe she'll be more friendly to the other cats.

Kenny renamed her Ash, short for Ashley, since she's ash-colored. Sort of cute. Her name was/is Shaun. So far I just call her the new kitty.


Reality Bites

Discussing the symptoms of iron deficiency with my friend, Mimi, trying to come up with a rational reason why I'm just so tired all the time. Some reason other than laziness.

Me: "Maybe I have an iron deficiency. I can sleep 12 hours and still be tired when I get up - no exaggeration."
Mimi: "Take an iron pill, that'll fix it if that's the problem."
Me: "I wonder what foods I need to eat to get more iron?"
Mimi: "Just take a pill. We don't need to find reasons to eat more food."

She has a point.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more

So here's the boobie update. Good news, I get to keep 'em both! No cancer growing around in there - thank Garth, because that would have sucked and then this blog would have been even more detailed about the color of my poop and other stuff that you'd rather not know about. So shew, you're SAFE, Reader!

The thing is, I still have to have surgery. I'm still scratching my head about how NO CANCER can mean, "Well, get yourself some surgery anyway." Preventative surgery. There's one little spot, in the boobie calcification part, that they just don't like the looks of, so they're going to put me under, get out the melon baller and scoop it out.

Whatever.

I guess.

Better to scoop now than chemo later. And the lump was nothing, too, by the way. Two separate spots, one boobie. But it was sure much ado about nothing.

Then? They think I'm going to get mammograms every 6 months. I don't think so, no-siree. Once a year, max. I'm not getting extra radiation for what turned out to be nothing, so they can stress me the fuck out every 6 months.

I was perfectly happy (and healthy-boobied) prior to any mammograms. I don't think that sticking needles around in there and extracting parts of my body have done it any favors. I kept reminding the doctor, and my boobs, that they are for fun-and-games only, and are NOT to be taken seriously. I'm proud of my boobs for holding up their end of the bargain.