The Case I Missed

So I won't spend much time describing the 3-day trial I could have been selected for jury duty this week. I'll just link to the stories about it (high profile in another county, so switched venues to Boone):

Wednesday's Story: Deputy’s trial in shootings under way

and Friday's Story re: the verdict: Deputy not guilty in traffic stop shootings

On the one hand, I think it would have been incredibly interesting to be involved in... on the other hand, I'm kinda glad I wasn't. I think it would have been a hard one. The best I can figure is that I was not selected because I've never been a drunk driver... that's the only question I answered. Evidently, they didn't want anybody who could be potentially biased against the witnessess... who had been drunk in a vehicle along with the victims of the case.

Not that I have some huge moral imperative against it (though I DO think it's monumentally stupid)... I'm sure if given the opportunity, I could easily have demonstrated such stupidity sometime in my life. I just don't like the taste of alcohol, so it's a tad difficult to get drunk, let alone get behind the wheel of a car while in such a state. But I guess the prosecution wasn't taking any chances. Oh well.

Amway, though I'm far from the opinion that the victims deserved what happened to them (drunk or not), I think I agree with the verdict, based on the little that I know about the case. I can't imagine being a cop. At all. It's very easy to remember the case of our own officer who was shot and killed at a traffic stop a few years ago, here in Columbia.

So on top of all THAT goin on, the courthouse was a-hoppin this week. They had jury cases comin out the ying-yang... including another 3-day trial in addition to the one I was called for. Which is evidently unusual for them. I ended up getting called twice... Tuesday and Thursday. The Thursday trial was evidently a domestic violence case that was dismissed because the defendent pleaded guilty that morning. But not until after I'd gotten my ass outta bed (again) at an ungawdly hour to get there on time, of course, but that's okay. Again, I'm rather glad I missed out on that one.

And no casese today, so I dodged the bullet this week. Though I was originally anticipating the week with interest, I think it's probably best I didn't have any more unpleasantness thrown at me than was already absolutely necessary.

Gone

So they say be careful what you ask for. I kept hoping Ms. Pukesalot could give her own two-cents worth about her fate, instead of my trying to interpret her behavior. And last weekend, she finally gave me her input... at great extent. She cried and cried all weekend. It was a hard weekend.

I thought the decision would be easier once I knew for sure which was the right choice. It wasn't. You know, there really isn't any delicate way to say "I killed my cat" without sounding trite. But there it is. The vet was able to get us in early Monday morning, so Pop was able to be with us... and Mom, not currently working, was there of course.

The rest of the day was not my best. Migraines are NOT a huge fan of all that crying. At least that phase didn't long... I thought I was doing okay until these last couple of days, when I crossed over into "cranky" land. With provocation, of course. Sometimes my boss can be a real pain in the ass, and he chose one helluva time to indulge in it. At least he's an equal opportunity ass, so I know I'm not special or anything... but still.

But at least it is now 5:30 on Friday, and it's time to go home. Tomorrow I have to take Gram to her hair appt... plus I have to start contemplating cleaning the house in preparation for Coffeehead's visit in a few weeks (and deciding whether or not I'm ready to clear out all the feline accoutraments)... but at least I'll finally have some healing "alone" time sometime this weekend.

At least I hope so... I'm in sore need of it. Poor Mom has really wanted to be there for me and help me through my loss and all... but for her, the healing process involves lots of hugs, and reaching out, and time spent with loved ones. For me, it means time to myself to find my center and recuperate. We compromised, though... Tuesday, after I was released after not being selected for jury duty around noon, she and I went out to lunch and saw a movie... then she and Pop wanted to take me to dinner. It was very nice of them, and I appreciated it. But between that, then working late Wednesday and Thursday to catch up with my missed time, I haven't had much of that "me" time. I sincerely plan to catch up this weekend. Hopefully.

And Even More Fun…

So I don’t know if it’s the several storm systems passing through (MO rivers are forecast to approach the spectacular flooding levels of ‘93 this week), or the stress of dealing with my less than pleasant choices discussed in my last post, or both… but I have had either one continuous migraine that won’t quite go away, or several one right after the other. Which has been fun.

The (kinda, somewhat, sorta, mebbe) good news is that this last VA visit yielded my decision to finally try some Imitrex, despite my concerns about Mom’s drastic reaction to it when she tried it a while back.

After my decision, but before trying it, I asked her again exactly what her reaction was… I’d forgotten. She said that Imitrex works by constricting the blood vessels (to counter a migraine which swells them)… only hers went a bit further than that, and constricted EVERYTHING, including her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. After that alarming little revelation, I was a tad apprehensive to try them. But, I finally determined a good time to do so (this past Friday evening) and where (at my folks’ place, so I wasn’t alone) when I had a good and blaring migraine.

The good news was: I was still able to breathe just fine. The bad news was: it made every part of my body throb with the increase of my blood pressure and heart rate… including my migraine, so it essentially made it worse. But there was one last bit of good news: after two hours of THAT, the pain was completely gone. At least for the next 22 hours. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re supposed to take it more than 2 or 3 times a week, so poppin another one every night when the previous one wears off isn’t quite an option. Even if I was thrilled with the idea of 2 hours of intense pain in exchange for 22 hours of painlessness. A somewhat odd tit for tat.

So, I’ve (kinda, somewhat, sorta, mebbe) found an alternative to the Butalbital that I normally take for the pain. They both have their pluses and minuses, and the limitations that one gives me in certain settings, might be made up by the other.

But, now that I know that the Imitrex won’t kill me or send me into contortions gasping for air, I know I can experiment with different strengths of migraines and different settings to see how it well it’ll work for me. However, the workplace is most definitely NOT an appropriate setting to try it, so I’ve been poppin the other stuff all week.

Amway, the continuous migraines have also contributed to my decision to refrain from overtime this week.

Uncomfortable Decision

So okay, it’s more like a seriously crappy decision. I keep putting it off… looking for more definitive benchmarks to help me figure out the right thing to do. Nothing’s helping. How does one determine how far along a disease has progressed to decide that quality of life is compromised enough to consider euthanasia a humane alternative?

This is where I am now with Ms. Pukesalot. I’m past the point of: “I know it’s coming up some day soon, so I’ll worry about it when it gets here.” I’m past the point of: “Let’s see if one more dose of subcutaneous fluids helps, and then I’ll decide what to do.” I’m even past the point of, “Let’s see how MUCH one more dose of fluids helps, and then I’ll call the vet and ask her opinion.”

I’m now at the point of not knowing how to call the vet and ask “Do you think I should kill my cat now?” A big part of me desperately wants her to tell me what to do, but I highly suspect she won’t. She’s already told me that there’s nothing else that we can do, and once fluids stop working, that’s pretty much the end of the road. Besides, this isn’t her decision… it’s mine, and I’m a big fat weenie for wanting to push that off on somebody else. I sincerely wish Ms. Pukesalot could put her two cents worth in, but unfortunately all I can do is try to gauge her behavior. Which isn’t promising.

She stopped eating on her own about 3 weeks ago. I first started force feeding her just a little, hoping that would motivate her to eat a bit. But it wasn’t working, and she is now disturbingly gaunt. I steadily increased the amount and regularity of her feedings, but it’s not a pleasant experience, and she promptly hides from me afterwards for at least an hour or so.

The administering of fluids is an even less pleasant experience. After that first disastrous try, I did much better on the second try, but she fought hard, and it took all three of us to hold her down. This last time, I was worried about how lethargic she was and wanted to give her a dose early… but chickened out and ended up taking her in to the vet for it. She didn’t fight as badly there, but I think she was too busy being nervous about the vet to put up too much of a fuss.

Her “perkiness” after each dose of fluids is markedly declining as well. I really paid attention this last time (Monday), looking for clues. She was a little more back to her old self… poking her face in mine to wake me up in the morning… following me to bed in the evening… actually getting up and move around a little bit during the day… talking to me a little bit… and not looking at me with that… “off” look in her eyes. But when she’s not hiding after I’ve fed her, she still spends most of her time just laying like a lethargic bump on a log… and rarely in my lap. Last time, her improved behavior lasted about a week after her dose of fluids. This time, the benefits seem to be waning a little sooner.

But it’s so hard to tell. I’m never sure to trust my own judgment… I mean, I see her every day… it’s hard to gauge small yet steady changes. She doesn’t seem to be in distress or pain or discomfort. She just seems to have lost the will to live. Is this death-sentence material? The cats we’ve had in the past who had kidney failure experienced spectacularly unpleasant symptoms near the end. It was very easy to decide the humane thing to do for them.

But is it right to kill Ms. Pukesalot when she’s obviously declining but NOT in obvious distress, before it gets to the point of a horrible death?

Should I stop all of my efforts to keep the rest of her as healthy as I can, and let everything fail, or let her starve to death?

Or should I continue the unpleasant business of force feeding her every day, and the traumatic experience of pushing fluids once a week (or more often, depending on how quickly this goes), and hope nature is kind to her in the end?

Option 2 is out of the question. Besides the fact that I refuse to watch my cat starve to death, that is just plain negligence, pure and simple.

Contemplating Option 3 is much akin to facing down a particularly grueling trek through crocodile-infested jungles… for an indeterminate amount of time. But am I avoiding that choice because it will be harder on me or because it will be harder on her? I thought that by this point it would be eas(ier) to determine that, but it’s actually harder, because all of my indicators for making this choice are about as clear as mud.

I don’t want to just kill my cat because she’s become a burden to me… but as Mom quite succinctly pointed out, I don’t to make her suffer because I’m afraid of being selfish. I just have no idea how to determine how much she’s actually “suffering”. How much should the fluids be working? What defines “working”?

My apprehension over this decision is not that I want to keep her with me as long as possible. I’m ready to let her go. A less-than-admirable part of me was ready to let her go a long time ago (in a different way), but a sense of obligation… as well as familiarity and affection for her … helped me decide to keep her around. No, my problem is being responsible for the actual termination of a life without knowing for sure it’s the best option for that life. That’s always been a sensitive spot for me. I’ve never had to test it before… and I’m not horribly thrilled to be presented with an opportunity to do so now. Yeah, yeah, I know...goes with the territory of being a pet-owner.

*sigh*

I should have been working overtime this week to catch up on work. My boss finally authorized it a few weeks ago, and I got a good amount in last week. But Mom, speaking from experience, has convinced me that I will kick myself to oblivion if I essentially abandon Ms. Pukesalot during her last days. So I’m doing my best to get caught up during normal work hours. Fortunately, the office has been relatively slow this week, and I’ve made decent headway. Unfortunately, I haven’t had as good of luck pushing the distraction of all this unpleasant business out of my head.

Mother’s Day is this Sunday, and I’ve wondered if it might be a good idea for my family (including Gram) to come to my place for dinner… and to have one last chance to see Ms. Pukesalot. At least in a pleasant setting. Mom and Pop have told me they’ll be with me for moral support if I need it whenever I have to make a decision, but the vet will hardly be an optimal setting for pleasant good-byes.

Amway, that’s about all the agonizing over the situation that I can articulate. The rest of it is still milling about in my head… and my conscience. But it does help to at least get some of it down in some sort of coherent fashion.

We’ve Got a Winner!

So after a month of an agonizing interview and selection process, we’ve finally hired a new Admin. Assistant for the department… yay! She seems extremely competent, but is also very personable, and not ambitious. I think she’ll be a great fit. Here’s hoping, anyway.

She’s going to start in two weeks, and will be plastered to my side for the first several months… or however long it takes to download a good chunk of what’s in my head about this place into hers. Then mebbe I can cut down this pile of contracts to draft, some of which or a few months old… *sigh*

Surreal Week

Tuesday

So last week was a pretty surreal week for me. Starting on Tuesday with a trip to Rolla with the rest of the admin staff in the division, for our annual UM-wide campus facilities meeting between all four campuses. We normally hold them at Columbia, since we’re the most centrally located between the four campuses, but suggestions were made at the last meeting that a change of scenery would be nice. And it was. Rolla’s campus is significantly smaller than ours, and very specialized, but it was still a nice little campus to check out. Aside from the drive back through the downpour. Thankfully, I wasn't driving.

Thursday

Then on Thursday, we were supposed to have our Administrative Professionals Appreciation Celebration (a trip to the park) given by our project managers… but we were rained in, as it were. However, it was probably a good thing we weren’t out at the park, anyway, since one of my coworkers proceeded to have a grand-mal seizure here at work that afternoon. She was rushed to the E.R., and they discovered she has a mass a bit smaller than a ping-pong ball in her brain. Fortunately, they think it’s benign, and it’s close to the skull… so she’s in surgery today for them to remove it. Of course, being the workaholic that she is, she’s been working from home… pretty much all the way up to her surgery time. *shaking head* But then, as the Office Manager mentioned this morning, work is probably her outlet. Especially from fussing about the surgery too much.

Friday

Friday, I took the day off for VA appointments all day. It started with getting stopped for speeding, since I was thoroughly distracted by trying to get the hospital ASAP so I could get my fasting labs drawn and I could finally eat… I was starving to death! So, of course, I completely forgot to slow down in front of the middle school… even though there were no children anywhere in the vicinity. By 9 am, most are in class. But that doesn’t matter when there’s a sign that says “slow down”, and I was stopped… right in front of a bus stop. So, when the bus came around, and I was waiting and waiting and waiting for the cop to finally come back with my license, I was treated to a good chewing-out by the bus driver. That was fun. So 5 hours later (or maybe it was only 10 minutes), the cop finally came back and handed me my license and a warning. Thankfully.

The VA hospital was good and crowded, so everything went at a snail’s pace… and when I finally got in to see the Neurologist for my migraine appt., the man had to have been the most computer-illiterate person I’d met in my life. Hunt-and-peck would be a kind term for his typing, and he kept getting himself booted from the system. AND he was extremely condescending. So far, I’ve met with three different neurologists for these appointments, and all but one have had attitudes I’m not overly thrilled with. But oh well. One good thing about seeing a new doc every time is that each has a new idea to try for my migraines. Not that any of them have worked, of course, but one can never stop trying.

Amway, in between and after all of my appointments, Mom and I went to lunch, then ran some errands. I wanted to be able to spend the entire weekend going absolutely nowhere and doing absolutely nothing. I DID manage to not go anywhere, but didn’t have as good of luck at doing nothing. But it was a nice weekend, regardless. My weekends have been so hectic recently… between visits with IHOP Buddy, and cat/house sitting for the folks while they were in Florida, and finishing up my project at home, this was my first opportunity to just relax and enjoy.

Busy Horizon

So I have quite an interesting month ahead of me. First, the Office Manager will be gone next week, so the rest of us will be doing a little bit of double duty to hold down the fort.

Oh, and I probably shouldn't forget my birthday, but that's hardly an exciting occasion. The one good thing that will mostly likely come of it will be some of Mom's home-made cream-of-potato soup. Mmmmmm We all get to choose our birthday dinner, and that has been my consistent choice for forever. :)

Jury Duty

Amway, the week after the Office Manager's vacation, and the week before my birthday, I have possible jury duty. I have a pretty low juror number, so there’s a good chance I may be called, if there’s a case. I’ve been summoned for jury duty twice before in my life. The first time, I actually made it to the jury selection process, and was dismissed because I knew the defense attorney (I’d worked across the hall from him when I was working in another attorney’s office). But that was good because I felt very strongly at the time against being being forced to pass judgment on somebody else.

The second time I was summoned would have been smack in the middle of my trip to Australia for the 2000 Olympics… fortunately, they let me out of that one.

And here’s my third… and now, I’m kinda finding it a little interesting. I almost hope I do get chosen just to see what it’s like. Maybe it's part of that maturing business... who knows. Amway, I’ve been a part of a trial before (as an Exhibit… very long story), but never a juror. I’m not as hung up on all that “passing judgment” bit as I used to… though, I still don’t think I could do a murder trial or anything like that. That’s just a bit too much “the fate of somebody’s life in my hands” for my comfort.

Another Parental Trip

Somewhere in the mix, the folks will be taking another trip this month (albeit much shorter) to Iowa to look into some possible consulting work for Mom. It’s just supposed to be a couple of days, so I won’t have as much cat/house sitting as last time. But still… I think they’re planning the trip for the week I have jury duty, so that should prove interesting.

A Visit With Coffeehead!

And last but not least, my friend Coffeehead will be coming to visit at the end of the month! I’m very excited. She’s the one I visited in Iowa last year… August, I think. She’s going to be traveling to the Ukraine for a couple of weeks starting tomorrow, for her research work at school. When she asked if I wanted anything, I told her a keychain, and then a visit so she could deliver it in person. And so she is! Just a weekend, but it will be awesome to have a visitor. Especially since I’m cutting myself off from traveling anywhere this year… trying to be good and not spend money.

And it will be a perfect time ot have a visitor, since I just finished up my re-organization project at home, and it is thoroughly presentable. All I have left is to find some thermal blinds for my west-facing windows and sliding glass door, since that part of my home gets so hot during the warm season after they tore out all my trees back there. Mom has agreed to help me shop for those... we're planning on this weekend.

So that’s pretty much it that I can think of at the moment. Lunch is drawing to a close, so I need to dive back into these contracts. My boss just recently discovered how backed up I am (at one of the Admin finalist interviews, no less), and has finally authorized me overtime until I get caught up. Which is nice… I’ve already logged in several hours of overtime this week, though I’m not really sure how caught up I am. I really do enjoy helping folks, and having the most experience and knowledge in the office to be the go-to girl… however, it just doesn’t seem to be very conducive to catching up on the most time-intensive and complicated work in the admin staff’s repertoire.

But that’s what getting this new person in will be good for. At least I’m sincerely hoping so.

Stabbing my Cat (a.k.a.: The Traumatic Ordeal)

So Ms. Pukesalot’s kidneys are slowly failing. This has been confirmed with continuous blood tests after the settling of multiple health problems which arose at the beginning of the year. Most particularly, her potassium levels are alarmingly low. Now, my family has lost two cats to kidney failure in the past. It wasn’t pretty, but at least I know what to expect. I just don’t know when. The major difference is that I know enough ahead of time to try to give her as much of a quality life as possible in the meantime.

Which, the vet tells me, partially entails giving her IV fluids with potassium every two weeks (at the very least). Ie: stabbing her with an IV needle and holding her still for 5-10 minutes while 100 cc’s of the stuff puff up her neck like a balloon. At least theoretically.

Last night was my first time since the vet walked me through the procedure two weeks ago. I figure I can take her in for the vet to do it at $25 a whack, and put the cat through the ordeal of a hated trip to the vet… or I can suck up my squeamishness and learn how to do it myself. So I gave it a shot… no pun intended. Fortunately, my folks came over to help… with moral support, and to hold the IV bag up high (so it would drip faster) and hold the cat still, while I stuck her and tried to hold her head steady. Of course, I had to psyche myself up for at least 5 minutes to actually stab her, and there’s that panic when the skin resists, and I’m terrified of hurting her by forcing it. Which part she had a whole less problem with than after the needle was in her for far longer than it should have been.

Upon reflection, I think I know what I did wrong… when I checked the flow of fluids through the line before I injected her, I forgot it should have been a strong stream, rather than a drip. So the first… oh, about 80 cc’s went in at an extremely slow drip… when not stopped altogether. And I can’t remember if I put it in with the bevel facing the right direction… which I’m not even sure has anything to do with how fast the fluid goes in, but who knows. This was my first effort without the vet, and, for a relatively simple procedure, I’m sure I’ll find every way possible to screw it up. And the cat was getting antsy and moving around, and the needle could NOT have been comfortable moving around under her skin like that. By the end, she was crying in distress, and I was a basket case.

After Pop pronounced the fluid in the bag down to the appropriate line, and I removed the needle and let her go, the cat promptly ran to a corner and emptied the contents of her stomach… which panicked me even further. I didn’t remember THAT big of a lump was supposed to be in her neck, and I was sure I’d done something wrong to make her physically react like that. But the folks assured me it was just an emotional reaction (which is hardly unusual for her), and they even thought she may have been responding to MY distress.

Fortunately, Ms. Pukeaslot quickly responded to lots of loves and pets, and she didn’t hide from us. I’m just worried now that she’s gonna have a very bad experience associated with the procedure, and it’s just gonna get more difficult in the future… no matter how proficient I get at it. MY immediate reaction to the experience was that I wanted to try it one more time with the vet. The lady was kind enough to offer a freebee moral-support visit if I needed help the first few times. I dunno… I’ll have a few weeks to think on it til next time. Now that I think I know what I did wrong, I’d like to give it another shot on my own before I inconvenience the vet out of her time, and put the cat through the ordeal of a vet visit. I just have to figure which experience will be a BIGGER ordeal for the poor cat until I can get my act together. *sigh*

Oh well. So that was my fun last night.

Call From the Past

So I received an extremely surprising phone call on Easter Sunday. Evidently my old 8th grade History teacher (and 7th grade Geography teacher, and he was also a gym teacher in there, too, somewhere… taught me how to actually hit a ball with a bat) was traveling cross-country with his wife, visiting family and tracking down their genealogy.

Now, let me back up a bit. I keep in touch with exactly two teachers from my school years. Okay, three, but I’m not counting my piano teacher in this particular story… he and I go back way back, to about age 7 or 8 when I first started my lessons. I’m talking about my school teachers. The first is my aforementioned Jr. High History teacher, and the second is my 9th-12th grades Music teacher in High School. Both of these men (or all three, if we’re getting technical) made a very memorable and important impact on my life, hence why I still share Christmas cards with them every year.

I’ll call my Jr. High teacher Mr. Crazy Tie, cuz he adored wearing the most outrageous ties you could imagine. He was one of those unique teachers that made learning fun. My strongest memories were of our virtual crossing of the prairie in our covered wagons… we had to prepare for our trips with a set budget, and choose which belongings to take and what to leave behind, based on the load capacity of our wagons. A different person each day got to choose a disaster out of the hat, which they then had to figure out how to deal with. (More than one person lost their wagon and all their belongings over the side of a cliff). Then, once we reached our destination, we combined in groups to create little city/states, where we elected officials and created laws to govern. We even had a trial when it looked like one of the treasurers had been embezzling money. We had a class each of 7th graders and 9th graders as the jury, and Mr. Crazy Tie was the judge. It was a blast.

And in 7th grade Geography, I remember he brought in a guest speaker who was an absolute expert on the world being flat. Not a single one of us could convince the man with solid proof that the world was, indeed round. But it was a great exercise in the use of our analytical skills. Mr. Crazy Tie was all about quirking the view on everything.

Then, of course, he was my gym teacher. As mentioned above, he somehow managed to successfully teach me how to hit a ball with a bat. But a more enduring memory is during the annual Thanksgiving Turkey Trot, though I never even realized exactly what he was doing until years later, he helped pace me through the entire mile, and I managed to come in first place for girls. I still have that trophy.

So yeah, Mr. Crazy Tie has a special place in my memories… a good memory during the usual heart-aches of adolescence. And in the years since, he has long since retired and visited every part of the world imaginable. I’d send my usual Christmas card, and he’d send a postcard from some exotic place. So imagine my surprise when he called out of the blue to tell me they were passing through Columbia for the night.

To be completely honest, I wasn’t horribly sure about calling him back… since I originally let the answering machine grab any calls I don’t immediately recognize. I mean, I’m not the most sociable person in the world, and what does one small-talk about to a person who was once an authority figure in one’s life? But I knew I’d kick myself if I didn’t at least say hi. And Mom happened to call about something else that night, and after I told her about it, she helped encourage me to call him back.

Which I did, and I’m glad for it. I think he sensed my awkwardness, cuz he pretty much did most of the talking. It was good to talk to him, though. One new interesting fact I learned about him was that, soon after I left my Jr. High, he found out a whole bunch about his family history… mostly in the New England area. I guess his family has all kinds of connections to US history. Including the fact that some great-great-great of his was married to Paul Revere’s sister. I mean, how great is that for a History teacher? I can just imagine how even MORE interesting his classes would have been.

Anyway, the phone call was not long, and it was too late for anybody to suggest getting together for dinner or anything… which was quite likely a relief for both of us. I mean, we’re both adults, of course, and we’ve kept in touch all these years… but he’s still Mr. Crazy Tie, and I’m still an old student, albeit one he remembers fondly. It’s hard to transcend originally established relationships.

And what the hey… I won’t have any exciting trips or visits to talk about in this year’s Christmas letter, so at least I can have one person to “shout-out” to. :)

The Should-be-Warming-Up-But-Gonna-Snow-This-Weekend Spring Blues

So I dunno if it’s the time of year, or if it’s just a personal cycle, or if it’s the weather, or staring 34 in the eye or what, but I’ve suddenly found myself engulfed in self-doubt lately. Not that I have a problem with turning 34 next month, at least not consciously. But I guess I just start second guessing my choices in life.

And I’ve been seriously fussing about my impending position reclassification at work. Sometimes I’m cool with it, and am confident I have what it takes to be that next level up. And sometimes I feel like a fraud who couldn’t ever possibly be a good supervisor. The New Office Manager struggles with the same thing, only her worries of her inadequacies are opposite from mine… she’s a big sweetie, and doesn’t feel like she wields as much authority as she should. And I have what she calls a “hard edge”, which I don’t control as much as I feel I should. There’s not that big a barrier between my brain and my mouth, and though I may come back 5 minutes later in a much more rational mood and apologize, my original irritation is felt by all with very little buffer. And what kind of supervisor is that?

But the New Office Manager has confidence in me… and more importantly, she’s told me that the new Associate Director for my department (he was essentially Senior Project Manager who had HIS position reclassified as well), whom I will be working with directly as his assistant, has faith in me as well. And that’s the important part. I can see how the dynamic between boss and assistant could have a lot of weight in the matter, and we’ve developed a very good one over the last three years.

Amway, I’m hoping this self-doubt will pass. It smacks just a tad of the depression of olden days, and I just can’t go there again. I know I’ll be okay. I guess life just wouldn’t be any fun without the roller coasters.

And Speaking of Roller Coasters…

So Mom and Pop are off to their first-ever vacation this weekend. In almost 40 years of marriage, they never even had a honeymoon, so they’re makin up for it with a bang at DisneyWorld. I wish them lots of fun.

Of course, it means much of the same for me: splitting my time between their house and mine to spend time with their cat and mine. But the crucial difference here is that I will NOT be covering her job as well as mine at work, too. Woo-hoo!

And speaking of work, I need to get back to it. Until next time…

Ever Feel Like a Cell Phone Battery?

So I managed to over-work myself into another cold… or something. I’m not sure what the hell this is, but my energy level is pretty much nil. I feel just like a cell phone battery, where you sit for a little while until you power up about three bars… then you make ONE phone call, and it’s all shot again until you can boot back up. *sigh*

But, I had an extremely productive weekend… okay, extremely productive Saturday. I was pretty much a vegetable on Sunday. But lemme back up a bit:

Since we (at work) have had absolutely no spare time to train the newbies on MY duties and therefore ease up a little bit of my load, I came up with the brilliant idea of each of us taking a different day off of one of these weeks, and all of us coming in for a concentrated day of uninterrupted training over the weekend.

So… during the last two weeks, I did my best to prepare for said training. Now, I did as much as I could during work, but the same interruptions and workload that holds up any potential training during the day equally hinders my ability to prepare for it. And, of course, since I’m one of those wonderful procrastinators that doesn’t really put any real extra time into anything until it’s absolutely crucial, I ended working through Friday until about 3 am Saturday morning. Mostly putting together a powerpoint presentation and a department operating manual.

Yes, that was 18 straight hours of work. Stupid, I know (especially since I tend to froget to eat when I'm concentrating that hard... and guess what my head absolutely LOVES)… but sometimes my level of obsession can be amazing.

But actual training day was perfect… aside from trying to operate on four hours of sleep, sinus pressure and a migraine peeking around the corner, of course. I was very pleasantly surprised. My pupils were paying attention and engaged and asking questions and interested and actually learning. At first we were a little concerned about trying to stuff so much into one day, but the day went by so fast we hardly realized it was gone.

And then I went home and died Sunday and Monday.

But that's not the end of the story.

I got back to work today and discovered that, since my boss decided to share our activities with other upper-level management, the power-point presentation that I threw together as a last minute luxury for the training is now making it’s rounds in other departments. Which, on the one hand, is flattering… cuz the kind of training we did IS kind of a good idea. I’ve always been of the opinion that if you have a solid grasp of the basic overview of the department and how it all fits together, you can do your own little portion of it that much better. So that’s how I presented it… department overview first, and then contracts, which is what I specifically need help with. Well, it's what I need help with most.

However, on the other hand, it’s a bit disconcerting having my last-minute presentation going around representing the support staff of this department… hell, representing ME. I mean, MY level of understanding of how things work around here is plenty sufficient for me to do my job, and for anybody else who needs to learn how to do my job. But go up a few levels, and my level of understanding of the department may seem just plain stupid.

Now, the little logical dood in my head is fairly sure my level of understanding of the department is not, in fact, stupid. I’m usually very confident in my job. But there’s no talking to that little doubting dood who lives back there, too. Li’l focker.

Amway, I may be headin home early soon. My battery is running out quicker and quicker as the day goes on. It was nice to get out for lunch, though. Even though Mom’s not working at the moment, she still comes and picks me up for lunch on Tuesday. Since she’s probly the one who gave me this cold (it’s acting much more like the one she just had recently than the one I first had a few months ago), she probly wasn’t in too much danger of contamination.

Hopefully, this won’t be my only contribution for March, but my free time isn’t exactly predictable these days. Which isn’t all bad, I suppose. I could be sitting home bored to tears, which seems to be IHOP Buddy's fate lately. But that's another story and she's workin on finding something to get her outta the house.

Oh, and we've finally got some gorgeous weather goin on... woo-hoo!

Maternal Bon Voyage

So today is Mom’s last day at work… just got back from her good-bye luncheon. Long story, but the Reader’s Digest condensed version of it is: Politics. She quit. Her departure has been much akin to (as she puts it) grabbing hold of a hornet’s nest and shaking the crap out of it. Folks are certainly scrambling to make sure this division will continue to function after she’s gone.

Fortunately, I’ve been able to invoke the power of my superiors in order to back out completely from the whole situation. I will no longer be back-up for her job, I will not fill in while they find a replacement for her, I will not have ANYthing to do with the Documents Center. I simply can’t. I’ve become so overwhelmed with my own work… and considering the direction my position may go in the near future, I’ll have even less time for it.

As for Mom, well… she’s going to take some much needed time off. Mebbe I’ll get her hooked on that DarkHunter series that IHOP Buddy got ME hooked on, and I turned around and already got Radish hooked on. Normally Mom doesn’t go for the romance novels, but I was telling her about the mythological aspect of it, and she sounded interested. She and Pop have also booked a Disney World vacation in April, too. I’m jealous, but I’m also broke, so no trips in the near future for me. :)

Pre-emptive Clarification

Upon reading over my last post, I realized that any notion of "wanting to be saved" can take a short train trip to the notion of "God". Especially by those who feel strongly about that particular notion.

Let me just stop that itinerary before it goes too far. My ideas of "God" and spirituality are a WHOLE nother issue... suffice to say that my closest acceptance of the concept of "God" is as an extention of ourselves, individually and collectively.

As such, the statement that only I can help myself already lends itself to the prospect that "God" is a desired factor. Or discludes the notion... whichever way you want to look at it.

Little Girls (a.k.a The 5% Hour)

So the Psyche is an amazing thing, dontcha think? Don’t ask me what got me on this and related topics, but they’ve been stuck in my head all week. As always, it’s a convergence of factors. Hormones, for one. Yesterday, I couldn’t decide if I craved orange juice or Ho-Ho’s more. I finally gave up and grabbed another dollar… very interesting combination, but not too horribly disgusting while hormonal, as it turns out.

But I think another factor is clearly: too many memories stirred up… memories that unbury unfortunate truths (I’d blatantly plagiarize a certain ex-vice president but, again, I’d like to avoid a bunch of political google hits) about myself. Truths that I can happily ignore 95% of my life, then analyze to the point of nausea during the remaining 5%.

Happy 5%... aren’t you thrilled to share it with me?

Amway, my most recent musings have been about the little girl inside. Not an awful lot of her left. The drama queen still does her best to show her colors. She still adores roller coasters, cartoons and 31 whole choices of flavors at Baskin Robbins. And somewhere, deep down inside, she still wants to be saved. Not really saved from my life… I have a great life, and I’m pretty happy with it. More like: saved from myself. From the emotional cage I’ve erected around myself, which keeps most peeps (especially men) at mac-truck length, and my own emotional balance in a steel grip. It's amazing how old depressions and mis-trusts can insidiously worm their way through the underbelly of one's mind to brush so many aspects of one's life. They just kinda lurk in the background, seemingly inoccuous, then strike with a frightening ferocity at THE most inopportune moments.

I've talked about this before, haven't I? Well, I'll try to come up with a new allegory next time.

Amway, so there lies the dichotomy of my life. There's the little girl who hates being so lonely and so completely out of control of my own psyche... and who wishes there were a magical answer or person who could fix it. And then there's the adult that has become so self-sufficient to the point of isolation. It's pride, of course. My deadliest "sin", I suppose. I do my best to rely on nobody… and, in fact, with most of the relationships I’ve developed, I tend to fill the supporting role and refrain from an awful lot of leaning of my own. And I like that… I like being supportive (to a point). And, as screwy as it sounds, I like suppressing most of my neurosis under that 95% of happiness so that I DON’T have to lean on peeps. Of course, every once in a while, this 5% comes out, and my friends are treated to the true head-case that I am. More points towards suppressing it, if you ask me.

Classic crap, no? Probly not the most healthy outlook, but I’m betting it’s not overly uncommon, either. It works. Amway, the irony of that little girl who wants to be saved from the emotionally vacant adult she’s become, is that only that self-same emotionally vacant adult can save her. She just doesn’t have a clue how.

I just love it when my head starts in on me with this psycho-babble crap. *sigh*

All right… well, the 5% Hour is over. Mebbe I'll actually get around to blogging about my new Project at home, next time.

Later.

Status Report

So I thought I'd pipe back in with an update on all the negativity from last month.

Mostly it's a lot better. I'm much better... the cat's much better. She's not entirely out of the woods yet, but her behavior is back to normal (thankfully the food = tail stomping phase was short-lived... with a few days at the end that I'm fairly sure were just for principal's sake), and we have one last follow-up appointment (*keeping fingers crossed*) next week.

Of course, my wallet is still in major labor pains. Not only did it have the cat and the dentist bills to contend with, but also some car repair that popped up within the last week... and more repairs projected for the near future. *groan* All total, roughly about $2K of unexpected expenses. Kind of a doozy... and gauranteeing I'm not going ANYwhere for a while. Oh well. I need to save some money anyway.

Amway, that's about it for now. Work's still crazy busy, so I'll have to keep this short and pipe back in when I have more to share.

Oh yeah... and it's still damned COLD. I hope that groundhog doesn't lie.

Aussie Ghosts

So I had a dream about my Aussie last night... or, rather, this morning, since I was having a difficult time waking up from it. Very interesting dream.

Amway, I got online, and there's my Yahoo reminder that today's his birthday! Haven't talked to him in at least a year, so I dunno where he is or what he's up to. The few attemptes I've made at contact have not been fruitful, so I'm not sure if he is unable or simply doesn't want to retain communication. It's hard to tell. I know he was pretty gung-ho to get into the action in Iraq. I DON'T know if he finally got what he wanted, or how that's working out for him, or if he's even still around. Not a pleasant lack of information, but I very much doubt he conducts his life in order to satisfy my comfort level. lol

So, I continue to send out an e-mail or a card for the important dates, and hope I'm not turning into an unwanted stalker. But history has shown that if I'm going to hear from him, it will be when hes' ready. He has his own demons to work through. I certainly understand those. So until then, I suppose I'll just have to wonder... and worry a little.

Wherever you are out there, dood... Happy Birthday.

Why I'm Not a Mother

So I accidentally stepped on Ms. Pukesalot’s tail last night while I was preparing her food last night. Hard. One of those moments where I start to place my foot down, realize there is an inevitably present piece of feline anatomy beneath it, and shift my weight to another location. Unfortunately, I miscalculated and ended up shifting my full weight directly onto her tail.

So, my precious darling now associates food with having her tail stopped on. I open up a can of her food, she runs and hides. I covertly open up her food while she’s out of the kitchen, and sit on the floor with her bowl to feed her manually (which, as you might recall, is the only way she’ll eat), she runs and hides. I walk into the kitchen, she runs and hides. I say the word “hungry”, she runs and hides.

Of course, when I’m engaging in an activity that has nothing to do with food, she comes right out and demands attention. So… I have now resorted to packing a syringe full of food, then taking it with me to some non-food endeavor, waiting for her to come near, then quick stuffing it down her throat and hoping it doesn’t upset her enough to puke it up. After which, she stalks away in a huff with her little ears back, as if… well, as if I’ve just stomped on her tail. And hides.

Now, let me explain something about the syringe. I had to learn how to feed her with one over a month ago. At various points in her sickness, she would eat nothing voluntarily… even via hand-feeding. Plus, her home antibiotics have had to be administered via syringe… albeit mixed with food, ensuring the most success in keeping it down. That was two weeks of liquid antibiotics mixed with baby food. Then after it became evident that they didn’t do a damn bit of good, and three days of in-hospital IV antibiotics, I am now giving her another two weeks of meds in pill form… crushed, of course, and mixed with canned food in a syringe. Up until the tail-stomping incident, she’d fuss a bit during the procedure, but once the food was down her throat, she’d be just fine and ready for the next item on her kitty agenda. It was hardly an occasion for huffiness.

I sincerely hope this is just a phase she’ll get over… soon. But in the back of my mind is the incident when some unknown kitty horror spooked her while her sister (one she’d grown up with) was next to her, and she somehow associated the spook with the cat… and promptly attacked her. She now can no longer be in the same room with her sister without snarling and attacking her. Her sister now lives with my folks.

Amway, I’m taking a sabbatical from cat-ownership today. I just don’t have the time to lure her out of hiding just to trick her into eating, over my lunch hour.

I’d sigh here, but I honestly feel more like growling.

Oh, and...

Gram's out of the hospital. After two weeks of in-hospital rehab, she's doing just fine and back home. Her home. Of course, frustrations abound re: getting certain other aspects of her health back up to par (ie: gaining weight, strengthening her appetite, and getting proper nutrition), but I guess only time will tell how that will work out. I think she's trying, and we'll just have to see how well her efforts help to keep her independent.

3 Things I Could Seriously Do Without...

1) My cat being sick.
2) Me being sick.
3) Ice and/or snow storms
4) All of the above happening at the same time.

Okay, so it's 4 things.

2 weeks of constipation, 3 weeks (at least) of a UTI, a third of her weight lighter, and $1,000 later, Ms. Pukesalot still isn't quite well yet. However, after her 3-day hospital stay for IV antibiotics to counter the most agressive UTI the vet has seen, she seems to have perked up, her meow has lost it's "PITIFUL" quality, and she seems to regained some of her appetite... such as it is. I imagine her stomach has shrunk, and I'm not sure if her meds are screwing with her already sensitive stomach, cuz she can't keep anything but baby food down... and precious little of that at a time as it is. Which means frequent feedings... which she'll only take from my finger. I put it in a bowl, and she looks at it like it's poison and walks away. *sigh*

I tried early on to just let her starve until she ate what I gave her however damn way she gets it, but among the MANY things I've learned over the past month is the fact that she will, indeed, starve herself if it's not how she wants it, and (as the vet informed me) if you let a cat starve herself for longer than 3 or 4 days, her liver will start to shut down and you'll have far more problems on your hands than you started with.

So, I've been running home at lunchtime for three weeks now. Well, except for last week when the coughing and sniffling and snotting and croacking and complete lack of energy from the Cold (with a capital "C") I caught the previous Friday kept me from tackling the results of a three-day ice storm over the weekend, which essentially trapped me in my house, until Tuesday. At which point, I proceeded to make myself even sicker and do (I'm fairly sure) some alarming nerve damage to my hands, and possibly some tendon damage in my left shoulder, by spending 5 hours tackling the couple of inches of pure ice on my driveway.

On a side note: Some of my neighbors can get away with leaving all manner of fun white stuff to Mother Nature to melt at her leisure, however I have a slanted driveway... nose down. There's no way I can get my car out of my drive with anything more than a few inches of snow on it... and parking on the rather narrow street is not the most appealing option either.

Amway, the weather's not done with us yet. We had another snow storm drop off another half-foot of snow over the weekend. But at least this time I lucked out. Just as I was bemoaning to Mom last week over the fact that I have no kids in the neighborhood offering to shovel driveways, I had a couple of just such kids knocking on my door yesterday morning. Considering my Cold is still clinging like a certain neurotic, miserable pussycat, I still haven't completely regained the strength in my hands (though they've stopped shaking uncontrollably), and I still can't turn my shoulder with any kind of weight without experiencing a sharp pain, I'd just been trying to psyche myself up to go out and tackle it for myself. I didn't have anything but a $20, but was quite relieved and happy to fork that over instead of the $10 they asked me for. I think the $20 was part of the Christmas gift/bonus I received from the PM's at work... and I think that was the best Christmas present they could have possibly bought me. lol

Amway, I told the kids to please remember me in future. Combined with the $20, I'm kinda hoping they will.

So. I've been having a fabulous month. One of the few times in my life it'd be nice to NOT be on my own. Oh well. Hopefully by the next time I check in, things will be looking up... and I'll have some time to share about my new project at home. Yeah, I was actually starting on a new project before I got sick. But things are crazy busy at work (I seriously need some help, considering I've again lost my latest back-up), so I'd best keep it at that for now.

Until next time.