ADR

It's not his fault, but Heber died at a particularly terrible time.  I don't JUST mean during my hardest final, so that all my concentration was on him and pretty much NONE was on the d**n test.  I mean it is the end of school so I have hours of free time.  I should focus on work or start quilling again because, my therapist today was right, I get a LOT sadder when I am not busy.  And I miss Heber so much I physically ache sometimes.  I don't want to go tomorrow to the All Things Animal Fair.  But I feel like I have to, not because I owe it to HerMajesty, my teacher who I got to lovingly chat with today, but because I owe it to sugar gliders.  If somebody comes to the fair that needs info on gliders, needs to know their diet, etc, I owe it to those gliders.  But it's going to be really hard.

Today's been pretty much a waste.  I had a meeting with my Dean... and HerMajesty.  I had therapy.  But then I watched hours and hours of Burn Notice, looked at hundreds of LOLCats, posted a little on Gaia, ate cardboard pizza and cold cereal, basically did little to nothing.

Final Other Things. RIP Heber

And then, with only minutes before my final, Heber was out on a perch, looking... off.  I offered him a treat, he didn't take it. I immediately grabbed him off the perch to check him over.  There was diarrhea on the perch. I pinched his skin and it tented: Dehydration.  I tried to make him drink from his bottle, he wouldn't.  He started sliding down the bars of his cage, too weak to climb.  I held him and gave him Pedialyte from my glider 1st aid kit drip by drip in a syringe.  He was doing a little, but not much, better. I had to go to the test, but I felt sick about it.  I made my mom promise she would make him drink every few minutes and after I got out I wanted to take him to the emergency vet if he wasn't looking much better.

I took my test, doing horrible, by the way, thinking about Heber the whole time.  My brother texted me saying they had decided to take him in before I got home because they said they could give him subcutaneous fluids.  I said, YES, thank you. I felt a little, but not much, better.  As soon as I was done I told HerMajesty I was sorry but I had to go and raced out of the room.  It was probably an hour since I had left Heber.  Rinny and Mom picked me up and just walking to the car I knew. They had been crying.  I started to cry.  They said Heber had died just a little after being seen by the Vet.  He discovered a tumor on his stomach, a large one.  After getting him back, I felt it, it was like a marble.  He said that it was that tumor that killed him.  He said I did the right thing with the fluids, but that he was just sicker than that.  I just... I didn't know.  How long has he had it?  Dr. Dobson didn't catch it during his check up last month.  How fast did it grow?  What could I have done?

I try not to play favorites with my suggies, but I will be honest. Heber was it.  I loved that little boy so much!  Maybe part of it was how much he had to over come, how sickly he started out, but he was my bravest, my sweetest, my funniest, my smartest... he was my everything.  Heber was my baby and now he is buried in the roses in the front yard.  Dad built him a wooden casket.  We buried him in the garden and then put a stepping stone that I made at Leadermete last year on top.  It looks nice.  I said a prayer, and put some rose petals in the hole.  I also put Heber in their Lilo and Stitch pouch before putting him into the box.  I just... wanted him to be comfortable in there, you know?

I don't know what I am going to do with out him.  I have this All Things Animal Fair booth about sugar gliders on Saturday and I just... I don't know if I can do it.  And Critters 2 Go... he was the star! And my presentation tomorrow... it was about Critters 2 Go and my service project doing it for the Scouts, I just don't know.  I don't know what I am going to do. I am just aching so much, I just feel sick.

Final Exam

In a couple hours I am going to take a final and I am REALLY nervous about it.  For one thing, it is the exam I have the most riding on: 1) The class has been the toughest 2) the teacher, HerMajesty, has been the least fair in testing and grading 3) part of the class I am pleading to the dean for an extension on because of my stupid arm, I can't physically DO what is required right now.  So I really need for the REST of this class' grades to be stellar and my skills beyond reproach.

So obviously, I am kind of freaking out. Will I remember that in the normal cat, the kidneys are readily palpated and should be approximately 2.5 to 3.5 cm in length?  That a large dog's heart should be between 80 and 120 beats per minute?  Will I be able to identify 75 different dog breeds?


I have studied. I have PRAYED.  But will either be ENOUGH?

Cats and Dads

Today both my arm and head hurt really bad.  I went to church with the family, but didn't stay very long.  Instead I came back and found my friend, Cali, waiting by the door for my return.

Cali is a cat.  She is not MY cat.  She belongs to our next door neighbor, if anyone.  They got her fixed, got her shots, but after that, Cali is just let to her own outside.  She is basically feral, but over a long time we have become best friends.  She comes into our house, walks around, sometimes hides.  She often won't let a soul pet her, and don't you DARE try to pick her up.  You'll get bit for that.  But when SHE feels like it, like today, she will come cuddle up next you, moving and positioning your arms around her like you are holding a little baby.  She is the weirdest, awesomest cat.  She gets to you.  My dad, self-proclaimed cat HATER and dog tolerater, loves this quirky cat. 

I really do feel like we are kindred spirits, Cali and I.  Even though she is a cat, she is one of my best friends.  I probably should not admit that. Hee hee hee!


But today is not Catter's Day. It's Father's Day.

And despite all the times I am pissed at my padre, he is a good dad.  He is funny.  He holds his priesthood worthily. He puts up with my animals in the house.  And, for better or worse, Padre is MY DAD.  He is part of who I am.

"Your Dream Stinks." - Tangled

With my headaches, fibromyalgia, and financial situation, I just really had hoped so much that going back to school would be a change in my life, a change in the right direction.  I had hoped I would finally feel I was going somewhere and feel like I had, well, HOPE for the future.

Right now, though, I feel so up in the air, so discouraged, I can't stop crying.  Besides I keep crying because I hurt.  I may or may not be withdrawing from most... or all... of my classes next quarter.  A lot relies on what the doctor says after this NEXT MRI.  Yes, another.

1st MRI showed that I had a problem with a disc in my spine... not a slip, but a tear in the disc.  But then he decided that it seemed my pain was really mostly coming from my shoulder so he ordered ANOTHER MRI, this time of my shoulder.  That's tomorrow.  That may mean surgery... which may mean not going back to school after the summer break.  If I CAN go back, like if there is no surgery then maybe I can at least only go back to non-physical classes.  No lifting animals, restraining them, nothing hands on.  Basically nothing GOOD.

CRAP ON A STICK.

I need to feel happier.




(A little motivational speechitizing for me... they should hook up and go on the road, those 2!)

I'm getting more "sinister" everyday!*

*if you get the joke in the title, I would totally give you extra credit in Medical Terminology (or Latin.).

With my right arm unable to bear any weight or move much, I have had to become increasingly left handed and it is hard!  The hardest part is remembering to reach for things in the cupboard with my left hand.  I forget and go for something with my right and end up with major pain.  You would THINK my sling would be reminder enough, or, heck, the constant pain, but NO.  My brain just goes go-go-gadget-right-arm before I even it even thinks PAIN! SLING! PAAAAAAAIN!  Stupid brain.

Disk Dilemas

If it was a pulled muscle, it would be getting better.  Instead, my upper arm, shoulder blade, and boob are not the only things that hurt so badly. Now it shoots down to my hand.  Dr. School, the orthopedic specialist, thinks it sounds like a ruptured disk.  I had an MRI today and I am going back to him tomorrow to find out what it shows.

I am trying to stay positive, but it just hurts so much, and there doesn't seem to be ANY good outcome.  If it IS a slipped disk that means it can be fixed, even if it means back surgery to remove the disk.  But recovery time may be long enough that I have to leave school for awhile, besides that it already threatens to fail me this quarter if my teacher HerMajesty has her way. 

If it is NOT a disk thing then I have no known hope for recovery and I just can't even face the idea that I might feel like this for a week more, let alone forever.

I can't drive.  I can't pick up my 1 lb purse with my right arm.  I can't close a car door from the inside.  My mom has to brush my hair.  It is so discouraging.  The pain pills don't make me feel much better, though they help a little, but make me nauseous and disconnected.

I don't know what is going to happen this semester, whether I can get an extension of some sort so all the work I did won't be a waste just because I can't do the physical part of the final, or whether this means once again changing my life plan to something more accommodating.

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” - Woody Allen