Dude Looks Like A Lady

It's been a rough two weeks.

I want to thank everyone who has called or written or prayed or asked about how my little man is doing.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart - your support has been amazing.

Two weeks ago today I had left Ebenezer at the emergency animal hospital due to his 2nd urinary blockage. As I've mentioned in an earlier post, unblocking kitties is quite the ordeal. It involves anesthesia, insertion of a catheter, and the flushing of his bladder and urinary system. They kept him overnight Wednesday and again on Thursday. I was suppose to pick him up Friday.

Friday morning the veterinary hospital called and told me what I was dreading - Ebenezer would need surgery.

When Ebenezer started having urinary issues last year, I started to do tons of research. I joined online advice and support groups for this condition since it's extremely common in male cats. What I learned in my research - what I hoped we'd never have to resort to - is that some kitties will require surgery in order to prevent further blockages. Surgery that is very delicate. Surgery that is expensive. Surgery that will essentially turn him from a boy kitty.....into a girl kitty.

Oh yeah. Ebenezer got a sex change.

The surgery is called Perineal Urethrostomy and it involves the removal of much of the penis and the narrow portion of the urethra. The surgery leaves a wider opening for the remaining portion under the anus. The surgery does not affect the formation of bladder stones, but it allows for a wider opening for them to pass out of his body - thus eliminating the possibility of him getting blocked.

Uh yeah. This has been my life for the past two weeks.

When the vet called that Friday morning I was overridden with guilt. Should I go ahead with the surgery? Am I making the best decision? How am I going to afford this? What is the best course of action for my little man? Is he suffering? Will he suffer from the surgery?

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

I, of course, went ahead with the surgery. Money was not a factor. I would have maxed out ten credit cards if I had to. I wanted to do what was best for my animal. What was best was going ahead with the surgery.

I flew up to the animal hospital that morning to visit with Ebenezer before he went into surgery. It was hard to leave him. I was afraid complications might occur and I might lose my little dude.

Worry, worry, worry.

I called the hospital around 4 pm that day - Ebenezer was coming out of surgery and everything went fine. Thank. God.

I picked up my little man on Saturday. He is stitched from below his belly all the way up to the bottom of his anus. It was required he wear one of those satellite collars so that he wouldn't lick or pick at the stitches. For the first couple of nights I would wake up every 2 hours to make sure he was indeed passing urine. For four days in a row, I was barely functioning as I was only getting 4 hours sleep per night.

We get the stitches out Saturday.

Hopefully the house will be getting back to normal now that Ebenezer is feeling better. We've had to keep him confined in my office so that the dog doesn't lick Ebenezer's rear end - because dogs are weird like that, and that's the first place Simon aims for when Ebenezer waltzes into the room.

So yeah - probably more information then you ever wanted to know about cats and their urinary issues, and places where dogs put their mouths.

Aren't you glad you stopped by today?

Good Vibes

My house seems very empty at the moment. TV watching time at the end of the day is usually spent with my two furry kitties sitting with me on the couch.

I only have one furry kitty tonight.

My little babe Ebenezer is spending the next 24-48 hours at the animal hospital. An ultrasound this afternoon showed a considerable amount of debris in his bladder. This debris has blocked his urinary tract resulting in him being unable to urinate.

He is currently sedated and having his bladder and urinary tract flushed.

I am currently a basket case. And my credit card is in flames.

I miss my dude. Big time.

Please send good vibes his way.....

Thank you :)

Love Is....

....My office floor (thank God it's hard wood) being completely covered in pungent cat urine because Ebenezer is sick again. On the bright side, the floor being covered in cat urine is actually a GOOD thing: a very, very good thing. Urine coming out of his body means his urinary tract IS NOT blocked, which means he isn't running the risk of kidney failure and death. I will take urine soaked floors over kidney failure and death any day.

I was concerned all day for my little guy as he was going in and out of the litter box frequently without producing any urine. I called the vet, and she recommended I give him a dose of his anti-anxiety medication - yes cats have anti-anxiety medication. Apparently anxiety in cats has a direct correlation to urinary tract inflammation thus the anti-anxiety meds.

In case you were wondering.

Love is having a house call vet appointment already set up for tomorrow at 8 am.

Love is being excited to FINALLY be able to collect enough urine from his box for a proper sample to give to the vet tomorrow.

Love is not caring that my office smells like I own 49 cats that urinate everywhere.

Love is laying on the urine soaked floor with Ebenezer so that he feels comforted and not alone.

Love is the fact that I smell like the bottom of a litter pan and I could give two sh*ts - as long as my baby feels better.

I have an insane love for my kitties.

Please keep all crazy cat lady judgments to yourselves. I can't be fabulous ALL the time.

Geesh.

Bridal Wars Part Deux

I had narrowed my wedding gown favorites down to three fabulous gowns.

"Time for the big mirror," my consultant excitedly exclaimed.

Oooh. The big mirror. Bring it on. I scooped up my skirt and sauntered out of the little dressing room so that I could compare all three of my choices in the large 3-fold mirror that resided in the central location at the bridal salon.

As I turned the corner, I saw her. A shlumpadinka bride in a shlumpadinka dress, with her three shlumpadinka bridesmaids and her shlumpadinka mother. She was standing in the middle of the mirror contemplating the addition of a chocolate brown sash to her dress. For 15-20 minutes hogging the big, fancy, 3-fold mirror. Over a sash.

I could have saved her the time - the sash looked stupid. The sash looked more than stupid - it looked like someone decided to wipe their poop laden bunghole across the waist of her dress. My consultant politely asked if she could scoot over so we could share the mirror - which most absolutely was big enough for all of us to twirl and admire ourselves in. Ms. Brown Poopy Sash looked at me, and my fabulous mother and my fabulous sister and scooted over.

An inch.

It didn't help that her zoo exhibit of a bridal party didn't budge AT ALL so she really didn't have much room to scoot over.

That's when I got really angry and resorted to child like pouting. My consultant could read the dissatisfaction that this frumpalicious bride was causing me, and brought me over to my own smaller mirror over by the register. This didn't help since standing in front of this mirror meant I was also standing in the path to the ladies room.

More pouting.

I couldn't appreciate my choices in this mirror. I kept seeing the reflection of women that were on the way to the bathroom. I kept overhearing the conversation behind me in the big mirror. My vision of having the best day trying on the best dresses and standing in the best mirror was slowly being destroyed.

"Oh my goodness, the brown sash makes the dress. Like Omigod totally get the sash, it's so beauuuuuuuuuuutiful. You look amazing. Oh wowwwwwwww."

And then I overheard this question:

"What color Chucks are you going to wear?"

Oh Helllllllll No.

Not only was Ms. Brown Poopy Sash super ugly, she was sporting an ugly dress, with an ugly sash AND planning on wearing lame sneakers to complete her fugtastic wedding ensemble.

Why did she need the big fabulous mirror to project her nastiness all over the store? Why couldn't she just be ugly in the single mirror that was near the bathroom? Why couldn't she just pack it in, corral her cattle bridal party, and get the F*CK out of the big fabulous girl mirror so that a fabulous girl (meaning me) in a fabulous dress (my dress) could admire herself?

So I crossed my arms, pouted some more, and waited for the wildebeast stampede to move on.

And when it moved on, I was able to stand in front of the big mirror and admire how freaking AMAZING I looked in my dress of choice.

No nasty brown sash of course.

Holla.

Back To Life. Back To Reality.

I heard this phrase over and over again over the course of the past weekend.

Summer. Is. Over.

Officially over.

Like, OVER, over.

I know, I know - I said in my last post that I was looking forward to fall and winter, which I am, but I am still sad that summer is gone. To be honest, I'm not even sure where the summer went. Looking back, Brian and I didn't go anywhere or really do anything together this summer.

Don't get me wrong, we had plenty to do - weddings, showers, baptisms, wedding planning, house crap, work crap, and on, and on, and on.....what we never really did this summer was to stop and smell the roses and exist in the moment. We unfortunately spent our summer checking off the boxes of our social and errand calendar.

I hate, actually I loathe, living life that way.

So starting tomorrow I'm starting fresh - vowing to savor and breathe in every moment of every day. I'm so bored with rushing through every event in order to get to the next event.

It's going to be a challenge because I usually plow full speed ahead through everything.

Not anymore.

Stop.

Breathe.

Enjoy.

Missing In Action

Well hello there! I've been terribly neglecting my blog, and I have no real reason why.

It's Monday morning again, and It's August 23rd.

August 23rd.

Ewwww. August 23rd. Summer is almost over. The rain and the cool weather today makes me think of fall.....which is obviously right around the corner.

To be honest, I'm looking forward to fall and winter this year. Mainly because this is the last time I'll be spending these seasons as a single gal. I'm technically not single single but I am unmarried. This will be my last year as unmarried.

Weird.

And speaking of married, most of the big wedding plans are completed. We are meeting with the DJ this week, and then the last big plan we have to make is finding a florist. Everything else is done.

The wedding ball is officially in motion.

Happy Monday!

Controversial

I struggle with topics to talk about on this blog. Not that I don't have tons to say - it's just that I'm very concerned about offending people. I suppose it's MY blog, and I'm allowed to write what I see fit - but with friends and some family reading - I dread the day when the phone rings and one of them is on the other line stating, "Whoa, you were out of line."

I've had one particular topic floating in my head for months. I've been dying to talk about it, but have been reluctant for fear of the backlash that might come my way. At the same time, I've never been one to NOT speak my mind, and my "big mouth" has gotten me into hot water more times than I can count. I also love to get people talking - and talking in a passionate way. I have the knack of either bringing out good passion or bad passion - either way it's passion just the same and I love to get people going.......

So I'm going to go there. For those of you easily offended, I advise to skip this post. For those of you interested in my slightly controversial post, read on....

Prior to purchasing my home approximately one year ago, I lived (rented) in a very affluent town about 40 minutes north of Boston. I wanted to remain in this town but could not afford to purchase a home. Wait, I take that back. I could afford a home - but one that was small and lacking all the amenities that my current home has. So I ventured about 15 minutes north of said affluent town and that is where I ended up purchasing. The town I currently reside in has a mix of people - predominantly middle class and lower class.

I am fortunate enough to have a grocery store right down the street which makes food shopping extremely easy.

Prepare yourselves....this is where I get slightly nasty.....

I've been shopping at this grocery store for about a year now, and about 6 months ago I noticed that everyone around me was purchasing their groceries with government assistance.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNN.

Now, every time I go to the grocery store I play a little game of "who is buying their groceries with my hard earned money." Yesterday the shopper in front of me, the shopper in back of me, and the shopper in the next lane over all whipped out their little handy dandy Massachusetts government assistance card.

Let the nastiness begin.

I'm getting angrier and angrier each and every time I stand in the check out line. Now, as a disclaimer, I did not come from an affluent home. My mother was a single mother, my father did not pay child support, and we actually qualified for government assistance. My mother was too proud to go on welfare, HOWEVER, I did take advantage of the free breakfast and free lunch programs that were offered at school. So technically, I've sucked at the teat of government assistance.

I feel extremely fortunate to have everything that I have - but I have all I have because I've worked so hard for it. It took me six years to complete my undergraduate degree because I worked for the University full time in order to take advantage of their free tuition for employees program. I received my Masters degree by taking advantage of tuition reimbursement programs from my employer. I've rolled coins, I've clipped coupons, I've shopped sales, I've worn used clothing, I've worked two jobs at any given time so that I can afford the things that I have.

So when I see these women with perfectly manicured nails handing their government assistance card over to the cashier that they retrieved from their Coach purse, I get irate. They notoriously have two carts stuffed FULL of sodas, and cakes, and candies, and CRAP and I'm the one paying for it. I watch them as they pay cash for toys for each one of the 3, 4, 5 children they have tugging along. I've had this conversation with friends that will ask, "don't you feel bad for the children?"

I do feel bad for the children - but I feel bad for them because they're the children of parents that are setting a horrific example for them. They are teaching them to have lots of babies, and to rest assured, the government will take care of them.

To top it off, Brian's sister is a teacher in this town, and has many of these children in her classroom. Most recently one of the students, a 12 year old girl, became pregnant - allegedly by one of her mother's boyfriends. She is keeping the baby and most likely going on government assistance.

Government assistance isn't the answer. Mandatory adoption placement maybe? Sterilization?

If you can't afford your children - it shouldn't be up to me to afford them for you.

Bring on the hate comments.....I can take it.....