New Year, same problems

 The thing with working in accounting, at least in some places, New Years is fiscal year end.  I had sixteen hours of overtime on the paycheck that covered that time, not including holiday pay.  It was a nice check that I needed as I recover emotionally from the expectations and disappointment of Christmas, and am relieved of the excess required spending that has left me more financially strained than usual.  Most of that extra money will go to putting my oldest cat down on Monday, in home.  It's Saturday morning right now and it seems like her ability to eat is almost gone.  I probably should have done it yesterday but Dr. Death wasn't traveling due to the blizzard.  Oh yes, the icing on the stress cake is this blizzard that just dumped another foot (at least) of snow that I need to attempt to remove from my driveway and deposit elsewhere on my property.

Delia is the biggest sadness right now.  The priority.  About a month ago she seemed to be getting picky about her food again, so I was trying different wet foods that she just walked away from.  Sometimes licked the gravy.  One day she yelled at me, like she does, and I saw her tongue was off center.  Oh god, what a horrible mother I am, she must have a bad tooth, which explains how awful her breath has also been when we have bed time snuggles.  

The vet was booking out two weeks but I got put on the wait list for cancellations.  Through the magic of working from home on Fridays I was able to snag a last minute opening within a few days.  By this point I was just hoping it was a bad tooth and not the same sort of mouth cancer that took her sister down four years ago.  My less than compassionate male vet (who is probably on some sort of spectrum of jaded to aspbergers to just more of a dog guy) pried her mouth open and said "yep that looks like a [insert medical word that indicates tumor]" and my waterworks were on. He may have been trying to make me feel better by backtracking to saying it might be some sort of infection or a cut.  A string that caught on her tongue and is pulling down from her stomach.  Maybe a sewing needle?  He's seen a sewing needle imbedded in a cat's tongue before.  Let's do an x-ray.  Nothing metal in her mouth.  Let's give her a shot of antibiotics that will work over the course of two weeks.  If we really want to know, she'll need to be put under anesthesia so we can really get a good look and do a biopsy.  May be a feeding tube?  Here's a list of numbers of specialists. And some painkillers to shoot in her mouth.  

I waited for the antibiotics to work.  I hemmed and hawed over the expense.  She began to paw at her mouth with both front paws, acting like something was stuck.  I was crossing my fingers and working a lot and trying to manage Christmas expectations.  She was not a fan of the gabapentin that I tried to squirt in her mouth but I did find that she would lap it up in the cat gravy and fish shakes that were becoming the only thing she can eat.  I went to Michigan to pick up some liquid marijuana and promptly misplaced it.

The day after Christmas I started calling the specialists.  Yes, let's do a biopsy, at least see what's in there.  I need to know if it is fixable or not.  I need to know that I tried. But as I called and explained, each place passed me on to the next.  "Oh we don't do dental, you need oncology," and oncology said "it sounds like you need dental".  I finally made an appointment with one specialist vet that was three weeks away in Madison.  "She'll probably be dead by then" I cried and they put me on a wait list.  It was only for a consultation.

The next day I was working from home and changing laundry loads, as one does, and I look over to see her prancing around the basement, tail wagging, and paws ... bright red.  It took my brain a second to flip through the possibilities, and I wondered if I had left a painting project wet somewhere or if there was a spill then I saw her mouth and realized it was from her wiping blood off her face. She looked like a little vampire but didn't really seem to be in pain.

I called my vet's office and the receptionist advised me to just go to the emergency vet but don't call ahead.  If you call ahead they try to tell you to go elsewhere -- I learned that the other day.  My vet was on vacation, so not even a possibility.  I tried to call other local vets who didn't answer.  Holidays probably.  Overbooked probably.  I had already hung up on the UW Madison ER receptionist who gave me attitude, so we drove off an hour in another direction.  Sat in a crowded waiting room for an hour, Delia quiet in her carrier. Got put in an exam room, waited another hour or so.  The bleeding had stopped by then of course, and I debated just packing her up and running.  Well, at least we can get a second opinion as long as we are here.

This vet was a nice lady, she also couldn't get a super great look at the lesion (that's what we'd been calling it).  I thought it had started healing, it went from less white to more red, but when I showed her the pic from the previous visit, she thought it seemed the same. She couldn't really say where the bleeding was coming from, but that it may continue intermittently. She asked if I wanted to do the biopsy there, it would be a few hours because we'd have to do labs first and I asked about the cost.  She came back with $2200.  They brought me the Care Credit application to do on my phone.  I saw it was through Synchronicity bank and knew I wouldn't be approved.  I was already on their shit list for an accidental missed payment and they were calling me every hour.    

I said that I would try to get booked somewhere for a non-emergency biopsy.  In my mind it should be under a thousand.  Her sister Phoebe was diagnosed when she went in for a dental cleaning and they found the carcinoma under her tongue and did a biopsy right there.  It was cheaper then dental cleaning would have been, probably $500 but that was four years ago and my old small town vet.

She gave me some stronger antibiotics, amoxicillin, the pink stuff that smells like bubble gum that I remember from childhood.  She also said steroids might help shrink it, but she wouldn't give them if I was going to get a biospy because then the results wouldn't be accurate.

So twice a day I was trying to shove a syringe in her mouth and squirt pink goo down her throat.  Delia was not a fan.  The side with the lesion was getting more inflamed, so I'd try to go on the other side of her mouth, but her tongue was there.  A few times I got it deep enough that she swallowed it all.  Most of the time a lot of it oozed out the side of her mouth.  She was starting to hate me, and in the meantime she was on to me sneaking the gabapentin in her food and wouldn't eat it if it was in there.  So I was giving her two syringes twice a day.

We were getting to the end of the amoxicillin and it didn't seem like anything was improving.  I called my vet's office to ask for the steroids as I had changed my mind about the biopsy.  All a biopsy would do is say if she had cancer or not.  Let's treat it like it's not and if it doesn't work, then it's cancer.

They gave me oral prednisone.  Great, another syringe to try to give my cat who's whole problem is that her mouth hurts?  Have you ever met a cat?  I'd rather give her steroid injections.

Nevertheless, I tried.  The other morning when she saw the syringe in my hand she whimpered.  I'd never heard a cat whimper.  It was day five and there hadn't really been an improvement yet.  I conceded.  She didn't want to be tortured anymore.  I didn't want to be the torturer.  My stepauntish had posted about doing in home euthanasia a few months ago when she had to let her sixteen year old cat go.  I knew I didn't want to torture Delia with another car ride, and that I didn't want to wait for my vet to have an opening.  And I didn't really want him to do it, because he's kind of a dick and there's a doggy daycare in the back so it's always all barky when I'm there.  I googled through my tears, and found someone who will come to my house.  I was joking when I said Dr. Death.  We'll call her an Angel of Mercy.  

At the time Friday seemed too soon and Monday seemed too long.  Now that it's Saturday and she couldn't really eat this morning, I think we are in for a long two days.  She went to her bed upstairs which she hasn't really been doing.  I put a heating pad under it.  Yesterday I remembered that I have some topical painkiller, diclofenac sodium, that I was given for my bum knee.  I used it on my sore neck and put a tiny dab on the outside of her mouth.  They warn about overdosing for humans, like I can't use the gel and take ibuprofen, and I'm supposed to measure it out based on above or below the waist.  There is no guide for cats, but what's the worse that could happen?  She dies?  

I've been telling her that she can go if she wants, Olivia and I will be okay.  That we tried everything, even witchcraft, that she's sixteen and we've had a long beautiful life together.  I can feel her vertabrae and ribs when she used to be my fat chonker cat.  It makes me sad to see her suffer.  I honestly thought she'd pull through, there's been a few times I've thought she might die and she's come back.  I thought she'd make it to 20, and outlive me.  This part of having pets sucks.  I understand when people say they just can't do it again.  

I need to work on digging out now, but it feels good to have gotten the story down.  I maybe had to prove to myself that I tried and that I am doing the right thing.  Now I can work on thinking about our memories and how I can make her feel loved over the next 49 hours.

And if she still wants to go over the rainbow bridge on her own, she is more than welcome to save me $300.

gentle laxative

This whole week has been about poop and anxiety. Quitting the new meds, they are making everything worse. My solar plexus is inflamed.  

I have never been lonely or bored.

delirious but preparing for abundant joy

Oh how funny i took this afternoon off to try to get some outside projects done. One of those is to fill my b-hole.  Bee hole. Cracks in the foundation. I need more caulk.

ok I will look for a chinese money plant tomorrow. 

lol lol I am a home for lost skaters. Helicopter "parenting" is controlling codependence. I'm trying to be less so with my bf. 

my favorite ancestor is elizabeth walker knowles

I was surprised and delighted to discover that everything stayed caught up at work and there was no dire backlog. It was nice and relaxing until there was check run drama, which was strange for a Monday, that is usually reserved for Thursdays.

How do I get off the ride? Yesterday I started to consider career changes. Cat groomer. Pimple popper (esthetician kind, dermatologists are in demand but so much mathy school).

The most stressful parts of my job are other people. I get overwhelmed by trying to juggle everything at work, everyone's expectations.  Then add in the overwhelm of everything I need to do to maintain the house, the yard, the cats, my body, its physical needs and emotional needs for rest and creativity. Sometimes I walk around grumbling,  do I have to do everything around here?! Yes I do. That's what I get for being independent and now I realize why people settle for mediocre relationships.  

I'm still fucking broke. I need to make time to read these books. Make my plan. Figure out how to deliver Door Dash on week nights. Funny, they keep showing the episode of The Office where Michael yells "I declare bankruptcy!" Maybe its a sign. 

travel blog day 3, kinda sorta but after the fact

Saturday morning was magical in every way and I spent the whole day driving home marveling in gratitude that we get to live in such an amazing state with all its different landscapes and how even the land here is magical. 

I spent the last 2 hours of the drive slapping myself in the face and singing along at the top of my lungs to my Carpool Karaoke playlist. I just wanted to get home and snuggle my cats and even my boyfriend. 

And as I finally got into town and was waiting on some fried chicken to surprise my faux family and I finally went back onto facebook that gratitude faded quickly. This town is magical in a black magic way, an energy vortex of weirdos and assholes. I turn back into an asshole. Cursed land? A Google search leads to a reddit post wherein someone references another reddit post that alluded to such :

Then I seemed to forget who my boyfriend is, I had some idealized version in my head of someone who would be excited to see me and hear of my tales of enlightenment. He was just stoned and stupid and instantly annoyed me. I'm just supposed to be grateful that he's not drunk?

It's been much easier to put that all on the back burner, just let it play out. I couldn't handle the stress of it all so I kust decided to be a dude and consider it a friends with benefits casual relationship that I am not trying to force in either direction. 

i didn't notice the braille when I was there. The labyrinth was amazing, but I realize now that my best photos were on my camera. 

My father mentioned that his father was at the ccc camp near there and I begrudgingly went. Spotify ghosts were dj'ing and Sweet Child O Mine was playing as I found the addressless ruins along the road. There was another group of people there, we did not murder each other. Probably cousins of mine.

I brought back some pinecones so my father could grow trees from the trees his father planted (theoretically).

They turned boys to men and had cigarettes for dessert on Thanksgiving.  This grandfather died of lung cancer 2 years before I was born. 

I saw some bald eagles feasting on a roadkill deer, a swan vs geese turf war, and in general was a bird centric voyage. The only living wildlife I saw. Maybe because I've been feeling trapped, I'm the caged bird envious of those who can fly.

Speaking of flying, got lost around Camp Douglas, if that is a UFO hot-spot I would not he surprised.

My key takeaway is that the older I get, the harder it is for me to live inauthentically. I am only ever at peace  when I am creating. I don't have my escape plan ready yet but I don't want to wait another 25 years before I can retire.

travel blog day 2, friday the 13th

Honesty. The point I think of the trip originally had been to find the truth. About what I want. About who I am.  An infomercial on tv just said he's been chasing down the truth. Should probably order these supplements.

The truth is I want to escape responsibility.

I didn't bring the right pens so my sit outside and write in the rain was interrupted so I decided to run to town to check things out since it was raining, I was hungry and I needed my zen pens.  I went to the local Family Dollar, which was the only chain establishment in the town of 650.

Stopped at this Antiques store with creaky floors and an old old man jamming out to ABBA Fernando.  I asked him about cat figurines.  I must have all the vintage cat figurines.  Maybe they are worth more now. I got a dog figure that looked like my childhood dog and a poetry book.  Was/am kinda obsessed with these heads, just because of the detail. Beret man in particular.  Ad on TV just said detail.

Ate straight up garbage yesterday, so went to the this fusion market for lunch for salad and a french soda.  It's very popular.

I bought one of Kathy's florals pumpkins.  It wasn't this one.  this should have been the one.  I saw it after I bought the one I had bought.

At this used book store I bought three books on zen/buddhism/lovingkindness that will undoubtedly sit on my bookshelf at home.  I also bought a fiction book set in the Driftless region that I've heard about before.  Probably at a writers conference.  I probably went to the author's seminar or something.  

I also made friends with the owner's grand son with Down Syndrome.  He was asking me my name and what I had for dinner last night while Robin and Robin tried to figure out how to change the receipt paper roll.  I asked his name and he said it was Tom Petty.  He said I was funny and then said "I love you, Cindy" so I said back "I love you too Tom Petty".  It was all very sweet and cheeky.

I also spent a couple of bucks at some other random junky thrift shop/food pantry.  I've been out talking to strangers all day.

Is this a secret artist town?  Everyone seems so happy.

Apparently they are Vikings fans?  That was the team gear in Family Dollar, not Packers.

Too rainy for aimless strolls so I did some aimless driving and car photography.  So may roads so close to edges of lakes. Still no wolves, no bears.  

Spent the afternoon getting stoned and coloring.  I don't feel the need to write down to the truth.  I know that I haven't found it but I have found some zen.  I am not stressed or anxious.  I wish the cats were here.  I guess at the same time I wish I could be here for a week so that I could do all the things --- hike, read, write, sit on the patio.  But l also feel ready to go home and hug my fur babies and snuggle my boyfriend.  And continue to avoid my family.  

Check out is 11am.  Do I need to do my dishes?  Is that not included in my $200?

If it's stopped raining I want to wander down to the river on the property.  If it's early enough, I'll try to write outside with coffee if I can.  There's a labyrinth nearby I'd still like to visit, and I still want to stay open to making pit stops on the way home (I brake for thrift stores and random Dollar Trees).

travel blog day one, a 5 hour drive takes 9 and a half

Didn't leave until just about noon. Teared up when saying goodbye to the cats.  Am tearing up now.  Vrbos should come with cats.

Stopped at a roadside tourist attraction I've always been curious about. Pretends to be an old timey village selling antiques that are not antiques and overpriced Amish fudge. I bought fudge and some coasters at the cabin decor storage. I ruined all the cashier's lunch breaks.

Went to Rib Mountain state park and conquered the observation tower. Last year I went with a friend on out way to the poetry conference but chickened out due to heights and fatness. I was not out of breath but still a little shaky. Took a picture for a couple of Octogenarians who congratulated me. 

A few miles away is the middle of the hemisphere, off of a gravel road. It's hokey but I tell you, when I stood on that medallion the wind picked up, the corn rustled and my whole body vibrated. I thought maybe the aliens were coming. Was there not a horoscope asking if am looking for my center? Cuz here I am, grounded in it. 

Longitude is essentially arbitrary and based on imperial England, but so is everything else so just go with it okay?

At this point its almost 5 and I had hoped to be there by 5 and I'm not even close. I think of Wausau as up north but it's not, its halfway essentially. 

So I keep going and turn on Natalie Goldberg's writing down the bones. She reminded me to keep writing past the chatter to get the deep stuff. Writing is her zen practice. My dad texts me and I ignore it. The car auto replies that I am driving. He texts again. I stop at a Wal-Mart in Chippewa Falls for tweezers and munchies. 

I had intended to try to stick to local shops and restaurants but wasn't sure what would be open when I got there. I told my dad I was about an hour out and that when I did I was off the grid. On purpose. Because that is the point of getting away.

I resisted telling him I was never going to tell him anything again but I did a quick jab in the gut of more likely to die texting and driving ((which he does) then to be eaten by wolves. 

It was dark when I left Wal-Mart and GPS said I still had 1 hour 42 minutes to go. Yeesh, almost 9pm. So I drove on the freeway sticking a comfortable distance behind a speeding semi hoping that would be emough to deter deer from flinging themselves into my Rogue,  an even more likely way to die, 100% for them as evidenced by the plethora of blood splatter marking the pavement.

There was construction and lane closures and I finally was routed to some curvy back roads where I crawled along. The trees were thick except for the occasional plots filled with junk cars or total blackness that proved to be a lake only by the appearance of a small fishing boat tied to a dock in my headlights. 

I finally arrived, nearly 10pm, exhausted nut on one piece.  It is so dark because there is a new moon so I check the Aurora forecast and its low.  The cottage is adorable of course, and clean. I see what kinda tv comes in. Drew Barrymore is weird and annoying and obviously on so much adderall.  Jen would like some boundaries please.

Was going to read in bed but fell asleep so fast that I had to dinish this post in the morning. 

travel blog day zero, the night before

Long day, stressful day. Trying to finish everything at work but exhausted from staying up too late plus constant distractions plus quarterly reviews,  trying to clean up the house so I don't come home to a shithole, power was out when I got home, my period is starting, had to meet a dude at the Kwik Trip to sell a thing, picking up hoardes of prescriptions at Walgreens (5!), and my cousin came over so I could give him a key so he can feed the cats a few times and it was nice to talk like we haven't in years so now hopefully we broke the ice to being more friendly and hanging out more often (ie once a year) the way that only two hermit weirdos who share the same adhd grandmother can. 

apt apt apt

The messes will wait for me.

who's afraid of the big bad wolf

I have figured it out and I'm not even on vacation yet. Thank you father who art a dry drunk, hallowed be thy roots of codependency.  And to our family traditions, for which they stand, to shit upon anyone's attempt at peace or happiness.

Shut down method deployed Sunday night when I really wanted to point out that I or he or they would have a higher chance of killing themselves with said pistol on accident than becoming wolf food.

I am 44. Is this sweet or controlling? I feel controlled.  Is this why I feel trapped all of the time? It is integral to my being. Stockholm syndrome as a character trait.

 I am going to say I'm off the grid even if I'm not. There is so going to be so much to write about. 

Insert Mary Oliver poem "Wild Geese" here.

you can choose

I'm heading to a cabin in the woods on Thursday. Vrbo. Selected because my gut thinks the host looks familiar like she is in the fellowship of poets and writes the listing like she is...

I heard on a podcast that someone heard on tiktok that going into nature for 3 days resets your psyche. That was the spur. I may be expecting an epiphany or at the very least clarity. 

It's going to rain. My dad thinks I'll be eaten by a wolf. I'm broke so I feel guilty for doing it though its already paid for. I can just eat peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.  

There's no wifi. I'm thinking it should be screen free, off the grid. No meth but maybe a daytime weed gummy. Must be on guard in the dark woods on Friday the 13th. 

Coffee & writing, tea & reading, weed & yoga and 9 hours of audio round trip.