Ugh. Five o’clock in the morning and nothing will do but what the dogs have to get up. Pup has to be at the vet’s by 8 a.m., which means a two-and-a-half-hour wait before leaving the house with her. During that time she can’t be fed, and so therefore neither can Cassie. This is going to cause some doggy outrage.
I’m s-o-o not happy about having to do the spay job right this minute. But it’s painfully obvious that it had better get done before I get rolled off to the ER, since a) we have no idea how long it will take me to recover and b) my son is coming over here to babysit, bringing his male dog in tow. Having to drag her off to the vet to be spayed while trying to recover from an incision in my boob sounds a lot less fun than accelerating the project, and having her come into heat while Charley is holding forth (and you just know that’s what’s gonna happen, because it never fails!) would make things just freaking impossible.
Yesterday’s Mayo adventures were not as bad as expected. Everybody was extremely friendly and nice, which made a series of annoying (and in one case mildly unpleasant) tests at least tolerable.
The time wastage wasn’t good. Though I hit every green light on the way out there, it still took 40 or 45 minutes one way. They moved right along, so I got out by 3:10 when my last appointment was scheduled for 3:40, but that meant I didn’t get any work done while cooling my heels in waiting rooms. I’d just get the damn computer open and fired up and they’d call me in again. The only exception was the mammography waiting room, where as usual one waits until one is blue in the face, but one’s gear is locked up in a cubicle — leaving you with nothing to do for an hour or so but look at pictures in sappy women’s magazines.
Noticed a BevMo on my way in and, remembering that a friend who’s coming to dinner next week favors martinis, decided to stop there on the way back in to pick up a bottle of Bombay Sapphire. I’d thought, earlier, to buy some at Costco but then decided I really didn’t need enough gin to fill the swimming pool.
Well, they had small bottles of the stuff for a more or less tolerable price, but did they have Q tonic water? Ohh noooooo…. Not because a place in tony Scottsdale doesn’t carry premium tonic waters, but because, dammit, they were SOLD OUT!
So that meant I had to stop at the Whole Foods at Tatum & Shea.
That store was undergoing some sort of remodel, and they had half the shelves emptied and discombobulated. Couldn’t find the stuff. A clerk recruited to help couldn’t find it, either! Finally, after traipsing all the way through the store three times, we found a small stash of Q, but the WF was also sold out of the large bottles, so I had to buy a four-pack of little bottles at great waste of funds.
By the time my friends show up next week, I’ll need more, since I drank one of the little bottles with dinner, feeling a great need for a gin & tonic by the time I got home around 5 p.m.
Think of that: two hours of trudging through traffic (every light turned red on the way home, not surprisingly) and traipsing through stores. Ugh.
Just to frost the cupcakes, now I’m getting those eye flashes and floaters in the other eye. So really, I should go back to the ophthalmologist and jump through the endless, unnerving eye exams again. But I just quail at the very idea.
I am so overwhelmed with this cancer flap and all the medical hoo-ha around it, with all the time consumption and fear and pain and expense, I just can NOT deal with any more!!!!!!!!!!! Plus I think this is the same thing as before, and if it is, there’s really nothing to do about it. Plus I did not like that last guy I saw, which means somehow I’ll have to track down a competent ophthalmologist that I feel I can trust, not an easy trick in this town.
At the borderland between sane and stark raving crazy, I’m really past being able to deal with any more.
This all sounds extremely maddening.
LOL! Life is maddening around here. Beats the alternative, though. I guess. 😉
Timing seems to have a bone to pick with you these days. Sorry to hear of your misadventures.
On the smaller scale, oui. But (assuming Ruby comes through the operation without incident) on the larger scale, this should work out well. I hope. She should be back to normal by the time I go under the knife. My son, then, will be able to bring his dog over here — obviating the many headaches of trying to find someplace to park a 90-pound dog — and Pup will be in fine fettle to keep Son’s dawg entertained. 😀
I had the floater things in one eye–waited 3 hours to see the doc. Oh, they’ll go away on their own, he says. Riiiight! When floaters showed up in the other eye, I self-diagnosed.
I think the flashers are what concerns them because it could be the start of a retinal detachment. I was making a routine appointment at Kaiser for my yearly eye exam with my optometrist and they said is there anything going on. When I said I was seeing flashes of light in one eye, they got all concerned and said I had to see an opthamologist ASAP. Everything was ok but you never know.
The last time this happened, the on-call doc at Young Dr. Kildare’s office insisted that I just HAD to race immediately to the ER. I did so and was told, after a cursory exam that proved nothing, that I was not having a retinal detachment.
When I went to the ophthalmologist, he said at this age flashes and floaters are typical of the shrinking of the part of your eye that holds the eyeball fluid (sorry, right now I can’t recall what it’s called and don’t feel like looking it up). And yes, the symptoms mimic those of retinal detachment, except you don’t go blind.