Sunday, August 09, 2009
Why do I hurt?
My sister invited me out to go riding, this morning.
Obviously, the horses hadn't been told, so they were lazing around in the pasture.
The rest of the pictures are here.
Obviously, the horses hadn't been told, so they were lazing around in the pasture.The rest of the pictures are here.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Today, Cotton "ran away".
After a sleepless weekend, for both Cotton and me, I decided it was time to go see the vet. Cotton had lost interest in food, and could barely put his tongue in the water. He had a temperature, on Wednesday, when we first went to the vet, and he never got better. After days of his weakly moving about, and crying out, I think he was in a great deal of pain and his bodily functions had shut down. His circulation was shot, and his kidneys were enlarged. Any food I managed to get into him, he threw up. Water was thrown up, too. I'm not sure it was the best thing to do, but I knew if we hooked him to IVs and IF he got better, he would probably end up in a diabetic coma, since I could seldom find his hiding places. The doc asked if I was sure I wanted to have him put to sleep. I said, "yes". I signed the paper that said he had not clawed or bit anyone in the last 10 days. The doc stuck the needle of poison into Cotton's heart.
I buried him next to his best friend, Saddie. When Saddie died, Cotton roamed around looking and calling for him, for weeks. He never loved the rest of the cats as much as he loved Saddie.
Cotton was the wonderful white kitty who made sure I went to work with the required amount of white hairs on my clothing, every day. When he was a youngster, he would go to do something, and fall asleep part way toward his goal. When he was two, he had a major surgery that left him freezing. He learned how warm it was under the blankets. Most every night, he would come to the head of the covers and I would lift them for him to crawl under.
If there is a heaven, I hope it's for kitties. They are wonderful creatures who do so much for their human companions. Goodbye, my beautiful Cotton, you gave me nine wonderful years. You are loved, and will be missed.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Medical mystery
I'm going to tell you a little story.
Back in August, my father turned 90 years old. We had a little party for him at my sister's house. I noticed this huge red spot on his forehead and I asked my mother what it was. She said, "he says it's cancer and he's not going to the doctor."
I said, "skin cancer?"
My sister said, "no, prostate cancer."
I realized my silly question and we laughed...not about Pa's painful forehead, but about my stupid question.
Later in the week, I asked my mother how Pa was. She said he'd been applying a warm compress against that red spot, and a scab fell off and the red was going away, but the pain was going to his eye.
Another day and I called to tell about something. She listened to me and then told me that Pa's eye was hurting him so much, she finally talked him into going to her physician. The doctor examined him and said he had a piece of wood stuck in his eye - (my parents only have wood heat, so Pa goes out and chops wood to get ready for winter) - which the doc could not remove. He'd call the hospital and set an appointment. My father started griping about the cost (and when he starts griping, he goes on and on) so my mother told the doc to never mind. She'd call back to get the referral after my father settled down.
A day or so passed and Pa is in terrific pain.
"When is my appointment?" he asked.
"You don't have one," my mother told him.
Well, he was in so much pain, she called up the doc and asked him to get that appointment set up. The doc's office called, but the eye doctors were busy that day, and could not schedule an appointment. They said to take Pa to the emergency room.
Once at the emergency room, the ER doc could not find that piece of wood. So, he set up a consult with the eye doctor in the hospital. The eye doc's nurse couldn't find any wood in Pa's eye. The doc shows up and looks and he can't find any wood in Pa's eye. He tells Pa that the wood could have come out on its own from the compress he'd been applying all along. He has Pa remove his cap from his head.
Said the doc, "you have shingles."
The doc put Pa on medication and he's on the mend. Feeling much better, in fact.
Back in August, my father turned 90 years old. We had a little party for him at my sister's house. I noticed this huge red spot on his forehead and I asked my mother what it was. She said, "he says it's cancer and he's not going to the doctor."
I said, "skin cancer?"
My sister said, "no, prostate cancer."
I realized my silly question and we laughed...not about Pa's painful forehead, but about my stupid question.
Later in the week, I asked my mother how Pa was. She said he'd been applying a warm compress against that red spot, and a scab fell off and the red was going away, but the pain was going to his eye.
Another day and I called to tell about something. She listened to me and then told me that Pa's eye was hurting him so much, she finally talked him into going to her physician. The doctor examined him and said he had a piece of wood stuck in his eye - (my parents only have wood heat, so Pa goes out and chops wood to get ready for winter) - which the doc could not remove. He'd call the hospital and set an appointment. My father started griping about the cost (and when he starts griping, he goes on and on) so my mother told the doc to never mind. She'd call back to get the referral after my father settled down.
A day or so passed and Pa is in terrific pain.
"When is my appointment?" he asked.
"You don't have one," my mother told him.
Well, he was in so much pain, she called up the doc and asked him to get that appointment set up. The doc's office called, but the eye doctors were busy that day, and could not schedule an appointment. They said to take Pa to the emergency room.
Once at the emergency room, the ER doc could not find that piece of wood. So, he set up a consult with the eye doctor in the hospital. The eye doc's nurse couldn't find any wood in Pa's eye. The doc shows up and looks and he can't find any wood in Pa's eye. He tells Pa that the wood could have come out on its own from the compress he'd been applying all along. He has Pa remove his cap from his head.
Said the doc, "you have shingles."
The doc put Pa on medication and he's on the mend. Feeling much better, in fact.
