A Heart's a Heavy Burden

Last day of school. I was very late as usual. Brian asked me to either cover for him for something, or test Vincente. I opted for testing Vincente, which worked out best for everyone because Vincente loves me so much and would do anything for me. Testing reveals he does not have a learning disability. He is very smart, too. He was very good for testing, trying his best.



We went to the auditorium and had awards, which were adorable and fun. Then we had field day, which was also very fun. The kids did so many cute activities, and Malik only got mad when the girls won tug of war and he thought I helped them (for the record, I didn’t, I just told them I was going to). He got over that much faster than expected and we had such a fun time. We did kickball, three legged race, water balloon games, and of course the tug of war. As always, pics are clickable for higher quality.







I spent the rest of the day fielding Malik and Vincente and saying goodbye. Malik took my leaving well and said I could find him at the community center this summer, and Vincente kept saying I wasn’t leaving. I found my desk graffiti’d later in the day, which I 99% suspect was Vincente, that said “Leah is the best teacher”. He gave me like 5 hugs, and Malik let me squeeze his shoulder affectionately when I said goodbye. It was very bittersweet.

After all that emotion I had to race home and pack for Madison! That’s right, my day wasn’t close to over.

I downloaded Name of the Wind, our next audiobook adventure. Steve smartly suggested it after we finished game of thrones. If you haven’t read it, you HAVE to read Name of the Wind. It’s slightly slow as the setup happens, but that’s only for the first 3 chapters. Then it takes off, and it takes off fast. I’d say in every session I have teared up from how intense and powerful the book is. It’s amazing, one of the best of all time, Patrick Rothfuss is a ridiculously talented author. I should also clarify that I’ve read his books several times.

We arrived at Ben and Sean’s in time for a late dinner at Cafe Hollander, which Steve and I picked after they told us we are “honorary Madisonites” and are also now residents of their house because we stayed there when they were gone and fed the cats and watered the plants. So honored. It was chillier than we anticipated but we sat outside anyway. I ordered a veggie burger with what they called a garlic aioli but was actually a bad mayonnaise and did not hold a candle to French Meadow’s real aioli.

After dinner we walked around a little playing Pokémon go, and then it was time to head back to the house and go to sleep.

Thursday. The third day*. Today was the first blazingly hot day of the year. Like, the kind of day where the weather screams, “REMEMBER ME!?!?! MINNESOTA, WHERE THE TEMPERATURES ARE ALWAYS EXTREME MWAHAHA!!!” It was 93 and humid, and it was 86 degrees before 9am. So sweaty. I wore a nice new flowy soft dress, and the rest of my school year is going to be almost exclusively dresses, as neither of my schools have air conditioning and it is so sweaty.

My morning was good, we switched to mean/median/mode/range and plotting and analyzing data, and that’s been going well. Helped Vincente and Malik on their stuff of course, talked about silly middle school things like how the space between the crook of your elbow and your hand is the same length as your foot, how even though Malik is only 12 that he already experiences “tall people problems” such as hitting his head on the bus door and that his bed is too short and he has to spread his legs to sit on the toilet because the wall is too close and his femurs are too long. I’d like to add in a side note here about this specific one, where he told me this last one the most innocently a kid could, like not at all thinking about the fact that to sit on the toilet he would need to be pooping and of course it is taboo to admit you sit on the toilet in middle school - though this generation is way more open to talking about pooping/farting etc. than mine was... I might have actually melted into the floor if ever it was suggested I do either of those things during ANY of my school years. XD

2nd block was fine, the first period was kind of annoying because Chanel was gone again, and I let the second period be super low key because there were only 4 of them and Dyshawn was really in the mood to talk to me today and it’s the end of the year so I let him. He’s the ringleader of a trend of timed “slap boxing” matches at school. Slapboxing is exactly what it sounds like: like boxing, but you hit with an open hand so as not to leave marks or do lasting damage. The new game invented and going around the school is to get filmed slapboxing with someone for 10-15 seconds and then you’re done. I asked Dyshawn what the purpose of that was, and why it was fun. He said a lot of people kind of want to fight or prove themselves, and a timed match (supposedly) means no one gets mad, hurt, or (probably most importantly) caught fighting at school. He showed me a couple of videos - Brian had angrily told me that Dyshawn was targeting the 6th graders but there were kids of all ages in our school participating - and everyone is smiling in them before and after???? So like, it seems to be working for now... but you KNOW someone’s gonna play dirty and it will all fall apart. Really interesting though. When I was in school play fighting was really rare, because it ALWAYS turned into a real fight. And in my hometown, if you were caught fighting, both parties went to court. Always. No exceptions. It was a great deterrent. I’d say from 7th-11th grade (I didn’t go to high school for my senior year) I witnessed 4-5 fights in total. A couple of years ago that was the daily average at my school, a school of 500 kids. Anyway, kids are ridiculous and endlessly interesting.

After that I went out to Eden Prairie to meet Steve, Nick, Quimby and Courtney for lunch. Since Steve’s last day at Supervalu is tomorrow, and they all work out in EP, Steve invited me out with them. My car’s air conditioning is broken and I like the windows down anyway, so I was a sweaty mess by the time I got all the way out there (about a 35-minute drive). We went to India Palace... Wait. India Palace is in Woodbury! Jk, this is a different India Palace. They’re franchised, and this place was good, but not as good as the one we love. But it was definitely tasty. We took our time eating and chatting, and invited people to hang out today after work. Then we stopped in at Starbucks because it was in the same strip mall. Then Steve and I said cute goodbyes and walked to our cars... and I couldn’t find my keys. Kay, I REMEMBERED locking my car. The first thing I thought of was how I’d JUST locked my keys in my car twice over the last 3 months. Awesome. But I distinctly remembered tucking them into my purse! Wtf! I started kind of panicking, because I didn’t see them in the car, so I didn’t think I locked them in. And then I turned and Steve was walking back to me! He came back to bring a drink to his coworker Jay, and I filled him in on my problem, and we went into the Indian place again, thinking maybe I left them on the table. Nope. Went to Starbucks, not there either. We walked back to my car and peered in super intensely. Didn’t see them. Went BACK to the Indian place. Back to Starbucks. KAYYYYY. I knew I drove there using my keys??? I could NOT figure it out. Steve had to get back to work, and I really needed to get back to work, and I was so afraid I’d call AAA and they’d open my car and the keys wouldn’t be in there, and then what? Eventually Steve had to leave but he felt really bad, and I started to call AAA but decided to retrace my steps one more time (I tend to panic when I have an audience and can’t see or think rationally because of embarrassment/insecurity/idk), and lo and behold, found them on my walk. THANK GOD. Called Steve, so relieved, jfc.

I still had enough time to make it back to Nokomis without getting in trouble (as in, with enough time to be face-to-face with kids). Today was actually a concert practice day for the younger kids and the older kids are finishing up a poetry residency with real poets, so I spent a lot of time in the E2 classroom talking with Nicci, one of the E2 teachers. Then I decided to take Jeremy for some work, and he asked if he could bring a few friends with since it was gonna be just him. I said sure, and so he and 3 friends ended up in my office for about an hour. They were all super cute, like, “So this is where you go every day” and one of them even asked me if I lived in that office. I pointed to my comfy chair and said that’s where I slept. They all figured out I was joking, but in that kind of innocently suspicious and somber way younger kids who don’t understand dry humor do. It was still funny. They were all working really hard, and two of the boys were so happy when I helped them figure out how to do some of their math work, and Jeremy was just beaming with excitement of being able to work with his friends in my office. Every so often one of them would quietly say, “It’s so nice in here. I can actually think because it’s *quiet*.” Aww.

I got home around 4:35, and Steve got home soon after. We picked up and put away laundry and collected alllll of the dirty clothes and got them downstairs, and the house is vastly improved. Someone in the gaming community died today, TotalBiscuit if you’ve heard of him. He had cancer, and he was 34. People told the Hearthstone streamer Trump (not to be confused with the other guy) WHILE on stream, and he told a few stories of his interactions with TB and Hearthstone beta etc., and the stream comments were a mixture of support and comments about cancer and TB’s experience, and he suddenly broke down into tears. Chat immediately turned into a bunch of hearts and “everyone cries” and people encouraging him to end the stream to grieve. He initially said he’d be fine, just needed a few minutes, and mentioned how surprised he was that he started crying. He broke down a few more times over the next 10 minutes or so and was finally like, “Okay guys, you’re right, thanks for understanding, gonna take tonight off.” it was quite sad, poor Trumpy boy, heart hurts for him. I think Steve and I both got somewhat choked up just in sympathy.

Eventually Nick, Courtney and Scott came over and we went to Catrina’s for burritos. They were yummy as usual. Catrina’s is a local Mexican food place, like Chipotle but better in every single way except for the fact that they don’t have a vegetarian meat option, just beans. Catrina’s opened a few years ago, and we know the owners pretty well. They opened another location a year or so ago, and they’re just about to open a third location, and they were recently featured on a national news segment. They’re delicious and we go there every week at least (they’re also within walking distance of our house). Good thing we didn’t decide to walk today, because it started storming after we got there. Phew! Today I decided to mix up my salsa choice because the citrus jalapeño just looked too fresh and good. Today was a good burrito, as usual.

When we got back to the house, Scott played the remastered Shadow of the Colossus, we put on the Office, Steve started a game on the SP, I continued working on Mom’s fingerless gloves after Steve guilt-tripped me EVEN THOUGH I wanna knit my shawl instead (“Leah, it’s getting way past Mother’s Day and I don’t want you to be giving these to her for NEXT mother’s day“). I’m actually almost done with them now, just gotta finish the cuff on the second one, knit up the thumb, and add the kitty heads. And weave in the ends of course but that’s a given. And THEN I can work on the shawl. The next thing I start should be the afghan Bethany wants for her wedding. I can work on it alternately with my shawl or other projects.

On my knitting podcasts, a frequent topic is whether the people in question stick with one project, or have several going at once. When I began listening to podcasts, I thought that I was basically a “one project at a time” person, because even if I’d have multiple projects started, I was never working on more than one thing at a time. Unfinished projects were projects I’d abandoned but not emotionally given up on and didn’t want to admit that I’d never finish them. Now that I knit like every day, and more seriously, I generally have 2-5 projects going at any given time, and I’m confident in where I left off and that can and will finish it. It’s funny, when I thought about how I only worked on one thing, it made me feel very knitters, but that was only because I associated multiple projects with not finishing them ever. Now that I actually have been consistent in getting things finished, and working on different types of projects at the same time (more mindless things for on the go, more elaborate ones for home), I feel way more knitterly smug than before. Also I just really love knitting.

All day and night Steve and I were texting each other cute texts. We’ve been so good lately, he makes me so happy. I love spending time with him and we have so much fun. SO MUCH LOVE!!! So goosh <3

Job hunting sucks. But I greatly improved my resume tonight.

In other news, I learned yesterday that my friend Mikey's mom died a short while ago. If you recall, Mikey is my friend who killed himself in January of '09, right after leaving a small group party (read: 4 people) we were both at. His mother struggled immensely in the aftermath of his death (he really was a most wonderful person and I'm glad I told him so like a billion times that night), and while I don't know for certain as it is rude to ask such details, I am fairly sure that she chose the same path he did. She was only 41/42 years old. I sympathize dearly with the surviving son/sibling. I hope he does not choose to follow in their footsteps. Very tragic.

Sooo, I'm reading this book based on the incredibly terrifying and gruesome Hi-Fi Murders. Steve says I'm morbid. I know I am. When I was in 11th grade and had to find a skeleton picture as the cover of my Shakespeare reviews or whatever, I spent hours discovering gory death pictures after that was the majority of search results. I haunted my dreams with awful ways people look after being murdered or committing suicide. The Hi-Fi murders are particularly horrible because they were planned deaths of random people. That is, the primary killer decided that he would horrifically murder anyone present during the robbery of an electronics store. The book is non-fiction, weaved together from interviews with the survivor and anyone involved (including the murderer) as well as testimony from the trials. The book is highly detailed to the level I desire, which only intensifies the effect. I've spent two lunch breaks with teary eyes wallowing in the despair the family experienced and is poignantly captured. I was talking to Steve about how amazing it is and at one point he burst out laughing because I "Leah'd" - a term with many definitions but is frequently referenced when I tell unnecessary details because *I* would want them (the example in question was where I was talking about an investigator and felt the need to explain that he was actually sort of retired and not the *main* investigator but it's still cool that the murderer in this case is also the murderer in the ONLY unsolved homicide he had). I was most moved by a man whose wife and 16-year-old son were both involved in the murders. He describes how it felt to face his dead wife in all her ruined glory and having to come to terms with the fact that the woman he was with for 36 years and was his "partner for life" was gone. Yep. Just gone. No more. The end. Never coming back. Over. And how he had to be strong while each of his other family members mourned after they arrived at the hospital and that he had to close off his heart to the fact that his life partner, who he was JUST talking to before she left to find their son (AND she was frantic with worry at the son not returning home yet and he told her she was overreacting. Think about THAT guilt), was dead forever. I explained to Steve that for me it would be a CONSTANT immediate back-and-forth where I would tell myself that information and then swiftly reject it with an "IMPOSSIBLE NO IT'S NOT TRUE IT'S NOT I CAN'T ACCEPT THAT FUCK YOU IT JUST SIMPLY IS NOT POSSIBLE I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS AND NO TAKE IT BACK." Rinse and repeat.

As a result, I should not have been surprised to have a similar heart-wrenching dream in which I left a church and drove by many crazed velociraptors (naturally) and when I arrived at his office building I KNEW that Steve had been attacked by raptors and I was frantically trying to find out where he was and I went to the hospital to find him and I was screaming for him and I knew he was dead but I couldn't accept it and I knew I would try to take it back when I found his mangled body and I kept willing him to be alive and not hurt. I woke up with my "trying to cry" face on, breathing all heavy and terrified. I immediately rolled over to Steve and cuddled him super hard and could not let go of him for several hours. And of course when I tried to fall back asleep I had to try to force the remnants of the dream away so I could stop trying to manipulate it and fail. My dreams like that go in endless circles as my brain refuses to allow a proper ending. But seriously, when I imagine that he could just *poof* and be gone just like that from my life, I feel exceptionally suffocatey and hyperventilatey and will it never to come to pass (which Steve also includes in my morbid thinking category). He is just the most important person in my life. If I think about it hard enough I want to keep him locked up at home so nothing bad could ever happen to him. Thank god I don't want kids because I'd freak every time they left the driveway. This exact thing is why I HATED the movie Practical Magic - the moment when Sandra Bullock thinks that she and her husband's love will overcome the curse but then there's that stupid cricket or whatever and she tries frantically to catch it but can't and her stupid husband dies anyway. NO. NO.

In other news, I officially applied to grad school for an ABS license, which will be a broad licensure allowing me to teach levels 1 and 2 of EBD, LD, and Autism and I can go back again to get licensed for 3 and 4. I went to the informational meeting and everyone there (prospective students as well as faculty) agreed that the type of license is a great investment and there's been a growing need for me-types.

Steve and I are also doing what we're calling "ghetto week" and seeing who can make the best of of $20 from Friday to Friday. This of course does not really include not spending anything, because it kind of ruins the fun. So we each got a $20 bill to spend on whatever we like for the week and we aren't allowed to spend anything more (excludes gas). It's easily doable, but we're so frivolous with the money we don't put in savings that it's a cute game for us to be frugal. Yes, we admit we are privileged, even with me working a crappy-paying job.

So, at like 5:30 the cats began waking us up. It sounded like Nero was running at Grim and wapping on the cone. We didn't think it was a huge deal and had to get up in an hour anyway. But it happened a couple times so I threw Nero in the kitchen and locked him in there until we got up. I saw Grim hanging out by the door right when we were getting in the shower, and then he disappeared after that. He didn't come when called to take his medications, but I figured he was sleeping somewhere and he took his meds a little late yesterday so I decided to wait until Steve left for work to hunt Grim down.

After he did leave, I wandered around the apartment several times. I was very confused because we don't really have hiding places, plus Grim has that cone so he wouldn't be able to, say, sneak under the bed. I started to panic at some point, thinking maybe one of the windows broke and he got out somehow... or something. I was trying to be rationale because seriously , where can you hide in this apartment??( I found him wedged between the bookshelves. )
I was really freaked out by this time because he didn't even make a noise when I called for him. He didn't come running, nothing. That's very unlike him. I tried to coax him out with words and pets, but he wouldn't budge. So I gently picked him up, and he was totally limp. He was very passive and let me baby-carry him into the bedroom, and he snuggled very close on my lap and had his tail tucked very tight.

It looked like he had more blood on his cone than usual, so I worried that maybe he got in a fight with Nero when we were in the shower and Nero hurt him in some way. I poked around him, which he didn't respond to, and I was able to move his tail and boost his bottom up to inspect him... nothing. In fact, his wound looks fantastic. It doesn't even appear bloody at all! So that was a relief. But Grim was pressing himself into me really hard and was shaking a little. I was really alarmed. I watched Nero creep into the room, and began staring Grim down. Grim immediately shifted more into me, and when I yelled at Nero he didn't shift his gaze. Because Grim was on my lap I couldn't shoo Nero away, so I threw a half-full water bottle at him. He didn't even move until it hit him. At which point he retreated to the other side of the room. Grim was so actively terrified of Nero I decided to separate them for awhile.

Nero's got food and water and a littler box in the kitchen/living room area, and he'll be fine there for a few days. He didn't even seem angry about it. Maybe he's not too comfortable with this role reversal, either. Obviously he doesn't know how to handle his power if he's bullying Grim. Grim NEVER bullies Nero. His dominance is mostly just a feeling, and once in awhile he used to like, mount Nero, but half the time Nero didn't even notice until we yelled at Grim, so whatever.

Grim took his medication fine, but he didn't even want the treats. I can't imagine what happened to him, and I keep checking to make sure he's freakin' alive. It's just no good. Thankfully I only have one appointment today and can monitor him. This has been his day so far:



You see the blood on his cone I'm sure. I clean it every day, but he still gets like food and litter on it and stuff too. He's tucked into the blankets because he was laying with me earlier and he loves being under the blankets. He's too adorable and pathetic for words. Look how unhappy he is right now! Poor guy :( I have no idea if Nero was tormenting him for half the night, or what! Each of them spent time walking all over me/laying with me, so I don't know when all this started. I don't like it.

Last week I had all-day trainings on Thursday and Friday. They were super awesome and helpful, and half the people there were from my company, and 75% of those were from my specific location. The first day I was ultra crabby and tired from having been kept up by Grim all night, and I fully intended on being antisocial and spending the lunch hour sleeping in my car. Somehow I ended up with the MHR clique, and then life got better from there. On Friday after the training, I had to drive home from Minneapolis in rush hour, pick up Steve, and drive back in WORSE rush hour (because of the omgsomuch construction), and then wait in line outside to get into the venue because they were running a half hour late. The concert itself was amazing, and Lights is adorable. I fell more in love with her at the concert. She has a very cute stage presence and is clearly there because she enjoys it. The venue was really small and cozy. Afterwards we waited outside in the cold for 45 minutes so we could get an autograph. We were almost at the front of the line to begin with, so the majority of the waiting was just her changing and getting prepped for a billion autographs. She came out in an adorable winter coat (many people were in t-shirts and even I was just in a thin, zip-up hoodie) because it was DEFINITELY cold by 10:45pm in Minnesota. I got a signature on her album, and Steve and I each got to give her a hug! Yay! We're pretty much BFFs now ;)

On Saturday Steve and I went to Nick's sister's for a Halloween party, like we have done since we started dating. I was Catwoman, Faith was Supergirl, Steve, Nick, Scott, and Pat all went as characters from Final Fantas'y tactics. We mostly sat around and talked, and Nick's sister tried to set him up with a girl she worked with who went as a "retro zombie teacher." She came only knowing Megan, and was able to tolerate like 20 people she didn't even know. She was funny and cute, and shares similar interests, and now we all want her in the group regardless of whether Nick dates her. XD Everyone added her to Facebook but we can't Facebook stalk her because she either just got a Facebook, or doesn't put a lot of information to the public (even her pictures are only from Halloween, and she untagged herself in everyone's photos, leaving only ones she took!). Frustrating, but workable, haha.

On Sunday we ran some errands and then went to dinner with my family for Paul's birthday. It was pretty fun.

Yesterday morning after we got out of the shower I noticed Grim standing kinda funny in the corner by the bookshelves. He looked pretty stiff and his tail was shaking like it does when he's straining in the litter box. I pinned him down and felt him all over to see if he'd yelp, and he didn't. Then he walked around a little and made a couple sad meows before laying down, super-stiffly. He did this like 4 different times over the next half hour - he kept laying in positions that he must've thought would trick us into thinking he was comfortable. Like, on his back or side for tummy pets, curling his front paws to be cute, etc. I was not fooled! He was sooo sad and stiff. He was not pleased to get put in the carrier.

The vet said he was blocked but that his bladder wasn't full (aka I'm ridiculously in tune with Grimmy). She said when she went to unblock him that she was shocked at how small his pee hole is. Which is because of the scarring, and was always my worst fear/knowledge. When I clean the litterboxes it has always been very clear which pees were his and which were Nero's. Nero pees grapefruits and Grim pees... like prunes (and Grim used to pee grapefruits). She also said she had thought there was a stone in there because there was so much grit. Poor kitty :( We had a very serious talk about surgery vs putting him down. Actually we had a couple talks about the surgery throughout the day. Lucky for me I didn't have any work appointments yesterday (and I was able to move my Depo appointment to the afternoon) because I spent over 2 hours at the vet and then spent much of the rest of the day crying. I burst into tears at some point while waiting at the vet, started crying reading a magazine at the doctor's office, and pretty much any time I imagined a life without Grim. He's MY AGE in cat years. He is NOT going to die. I cried when I thought about the cost and how I was going to pay for it.

Steve and I talked it over via text all day, and in the end I asked for a personal line of credit from the bank that covers such things as "consolidating debt, tuition expenses, home improvements, and unexpected expenses". I was approved for far more than the surgery will likely cost, and the interest is 11.75% right now vs whatever like 29% on a credit card (or 3). I started to cry when telling the banker about my situation. But I was able to get it under control and she smartly waited until that point to express sympathy or else there would have been for real waterworks and comical inability to understand me. lol.

I spoke with the vet again and she stated that she talked to a surgeon that she trusts very much with the surgery. He works just down the street from the emergency clinic and said he might be able to swing the surgery for almost half the original cost (though I'm not sure how and will find out tomorrow - I am not willing to compromise Grim's pain for cheaper expenses). I am also transferring all of the cats' stuff to that clinic, because I don't trust Banfield and never want to go there again. I scheduled a consult + surgery for tomorrow morning before my appointments, and Steve is working his hardest to get at least a half day so I don't have to do it alone. I could have left Grim at the vet for the next couple of nights for less transportation trauma, but I think he is less traumatized overall by being home. I had to go in the back to get him into his kennel because he wouldn't let any of the techs touch him, and he had the "bad animal" towl over his cage :( I always feel bad because he's so sweet generally. He was VERY hissy and had stuck himself into the corner - for a minute I actually thought he might bite or scratch me, he was so upset. But he didn't and I got him into his carrier with little issue.

He's currently taking antibiotics to prevent infection, buprenorphine for pain (we're good friends with it by this time), and instead of the muscle relaxant he's had in the past, they prescribed him a small dose of an actual tranquilizer usually used to prep for anesthesia, to prevent him from straining and reblocking over the next two nights. I moved all of the cats' items (water, food, litter boxes) to our room. Well, the litter boxes are technically in the hallway but I can see them at all times. I also took away all dry food and give Grim treats after taking his medicine. He has made a permanent residence between the catboxes and the food, and hasn't drank ANY water that I've seen, but at least he is happily eating the wet food. The medicine is an appetite suppressant and can upset kitty tummies so I imagine he just isn't feeling it. He's been high ever since we got home - rubbing on EVERYTHING in his little zone, purring like a maniac if I pet him, wanting lots of pressure-intense pets. He also has spent a lot of time just staring blankly at everything, but not in the listless way as when he was doped up in the past. I would guess he's having some sort of hallucinatory effects, to be honest!

All this has pissed Nero off a great deal, as always. He's only used the litter box once and I haven't seen him eat or drink. Though he often drinks out of the bathtub because there's always water dripping from the faucet. He's mad because Grim smells funny and appears to be "guarding" everything. It's quite amusing to watch. Every so often Grim will get this crazy idea to taunt Nero, so he'll run super-enthusiastically over to him (but not even touch him!), and Nero will freak out and hiss and stumble backwards like a doof and get all offended. But mostly Grim just lays on the ground, perking up if you pet him.

I spent the night just moping in bed, not motivated to do anything but watch Steve play Persona 3 and Tumblr. My dad called me, all concerned because of the most recent Hyperbole and a Half, which I "shared" on Facebook. I explained to him that I HAVE been struggling a lot with depression over the past 2 months especially, but it's nothing new. I just really thought that was an accurate portrayal of what depression feels like. If I didn't have guilt, and the very real knowledge that if I were to allow myself to succumb like Allie and so many other people, life would only get that much harder. I'm a functioning depressive, but that doesn't mean I don't wish with all my heart that I could just lay in bed for weeks or months. I've done it before. But now I am accountable in different ways and it's not really an option right now. So I sulkily continue to sort-of function. But it was adorable that he called and wanted to talk about it. He admitted that he's coming to terms with these types of issues (finally! Around a decade ago he referred to Pam's medication as Quack Pills and scoffed at the idea of counseling), and encouraged me to seek help if I need it. I've been considered medication again, but I don't remember it really helping in the past, and I just don't have time for counseling. It was a pretty good talk, and I swear I like my dad more and more as we age. He's a pleasant man these days.

I had a pretty awful day yesterday and ended up spending almost the entirety of the day at the vet and then the emergency clinic, and most of the time spent inbetween was through moping and sleeping.

Grimmy got blocked up again, and acted the same as last time: tried to pee, sat on the floor, meowed mournfully and gave me reproachful looks. When they looked at him they said he was worse than last time and they'd want to leave the catheter in for a few days. Money spent: $310. Then they recommended taking him to a 24-hour clinic nearby so he can be monitored at all times. What I didn't know was that this place is actually where the kings of the world visit when they want to stay at a hotel. The bill range for keeping Grim there? $1300 to $2500. Soooo... since the 5th I have spent a minimum of $2500 on this.

Now, money is just money. Grim is far more important to me than any money. HOWEVER. Vets here don't allow payment plans. They require everything up-front RIGHT NOW. So for people like me who make around $1000 every two weeks, it's going to hurt. People wonder why our society views pets as disposable. I would be sitting so pretty if I'd have just paid to put Grim down. And what happens if he gets sick AGAIN (which is, sadly, quite common) and I can't afford it? I couldn't even afford it NOW - the vet allowed me to open a $3000-limit credit line with a 27% interest rate if I don't pay it off quickly. I have enough if I use my credit cards and my entire savings, but I need to be able to pay my other bills and rent too. It's ridiculous and sad. 

Despite this bullshit, I still am steadfastly not going to give up on Grim. There is what's considered the "three strike rule" with his condition, and after the third blockage they recommend surgery. The surgery itself sounds horrific: they remove the most distal part of the penis and widen the opening, while creating a new urethra and bypass the old one. The issue again is: HOW MUCH DOES IT COST. Nowhere I've looked gives numbers, except for in Canada for $1200. Unfortunately, Canada is not the US and probably has better rates. Not to mention the healing process. I really, desperately hope it doesn't come to that.

I became very angry when I got an update from them. I didn't want them to do bloodwork, because last week it showed he was within normal ranges. I was told they "pretty much have to - no, they HAVE to." And, as I thought, it was FINE. I am a very aware parent, and I would not let him suffer. I mean, I was on constant alert, and he was still able to get some pee out, so I figured his kidneys were okay. And they are. And fuck you for taking my money. What I DID pay for that I didn't EXACTLY (on the outright) need to was to replace the catheter. They said that the one in him was very rigid and at risk for kinda making things worse with inflammation, so they "offered" to replace it with a softer one. In the call they said it was good I agreed because it was actually kinked and now he's more comfortable. Half the problem is that he's in pain and therefore his urinary sphincter closes as a reaction and prevents him from peeing. He needs to be comfortable in order to pee. It's a vicious cycle. Ugh.

Steve and I still went out to eat, a quiet lunch, and exchanged gifts (in a more subdued fashion than normal). I got him a tshirt with an adorable moogle on it and Epic Mickey (it was on sale on Amazon and I had a gift card), and he modeled, photoshopped, and framed an adorable inside cuteness. Instead of the big dango family, he made dangos with a danbo and made it the big danbo family using engrish and other cute phrases. It was adorable and great. I love homemade gifts. I also gave him a cute handmade card with Link and heart pieces and drew pictures and wrote all over it. Last year on our anniversary I bought him a card (my family is a family of Card Buyers) and he made me one that ended up being a billion times better, so I had to one-up him. Especially because he still makes fun of me for buying him a card ;)

He has been wonderful through all this. He wants to comfort me but I think I push him away, because a hug isn't going to fix my problems. Talking with him helps, and him being understanding about my need to feel these sad feelings and be depressed and sleep and sit on the floor of the shower and have a flat affect and appear cold is really helpful. He's there for me all the way, and I'm grateful for him.

Aaaanyway, I'm ridiculously depressed and mopey. Gonna eat some food and stare at the wall a lot wishing I could be home in bed. Keep Grim in your thoughts!

I had a very stressful weekend. Scratch that, I'm still really stressed out.

On Friday Steve and I were planning Joe Waid's birthday stuff, when I noticed Grim was acting strangely. He was licking himself a lot, and then suddenly just hissed. At nothing. I immediately got very concerned. Steve and I watched him for awhile, and he pretty much was walking gingerly, tail tucked, and licking himself. Then came the occasional bursts of a meow I'm not familiar with: the mournful one. I laid him on the floor and felt his belly. At this point I thought maybe he'd eaten a rubber band or twist-tie. He didn't yowl until I got super low, so I thought maybe he had a UTI or bladder infection. Steve suggested we take him in on Monday. Right as I was going to agree to wait a bit, Grim meowed one of those really distressed meows. You know the kind - the low, scary-movie type. I decided that whatever our plans were, we were taking Grim to the vet first.

I set out the cat carrier a few minutes before Faith arrived, and he crawled right in. He didn't make a peep on the drive, and he hissed only once when the nurse tried to take his temp. He was very mellow, and loving. After Faith and Steve left to explore (it was a Banfield clinic in PetsMart), I was told he had a blocked bladder, and then I was shown this gigantic list of things needed to do to him. The doctor told me that he likely would have died if I waited to bring him in (this was later confirmed via Facebook stories from friends, and the internet) as a result of kidney damage, heart attack, or a burst bladder. I left him with them, and then was anxious the rest of the day worried about him. I'm not ready to lose him!

The vet called in the evening and said that his bladder needed a lot of pressure to unblock, but that his blood tests came out good, he only needed one X-ray and didn't have stones, and his kidneys were undamaged. Bottom line: I caught it way earlier than most people do. They kept him overnight with a catheter to see if his urine cleared up, and it did. The bad news: the bill was $825. When they showed me the estimate (which was $900), I almost fainted. That hurt, it really did. But I'd rather be set back than without a Grimmy.

Blocked bladders are almost exclusively in male cats, and a large number die as a result of their parents misunderstanding what's wrong with them. They are recommended to be put on a special diet (the bag I bought yesterday was ridiculously expensive, and I needed the prescription to purchase it). I was given Buprenorphine, a derivative of morphine, to give him three times a day to help with the pain from the catheter. As a result, Grim is uncharacteristically passive, won't eat or drink, and tries to pee every few minutes (sounds familiar to me and my UTIs). The drugs help with the irritation and keep him calm and euphoric.

On the other hand, Nero is treating him literally like he's dying. He won't go near Grim, hisses when he sees him, and is apparently trying to establish his role as the New King. I don't like it one bit.

P.S. Icon is his namesake.

This is for Mikey, who died 2 years ago today, even though I'd just seen him barely a couple hours before.

We were partying with just a couple close friends - it was me, Mikey, Tessie and Isaiah - and Mikey got agitated and left the party between 5:30am and 6am, despite Tessie begging him not to. He went home and killed himself. You never would have known he had been planning on doing it, he was the happiest guy.

( Photos of darling Mikey )