Having a monumentally bad day. Inside, I'm screaming, "What is the point of going on?" Keeping it inside is setting off waves of panic attacks. And if I type about it anymore, things will get worse.
So let me type something that I found the other day. A while ago, the magnificent Stephen Fry published a book called The Ode Less Travelled, which helped its readers write all different types of poetry. I found my workbook from when I read the book, and am rather fond of the following. We were called upon to finish "Fry's Ballad," which began thusly (my contributions in bold):
Now gather round and let me tell The tale of Danny Wise: And how his sweet wife Annabelle Did suck out both his eyes. And if I tell the story true And if I tell it clear There's not a mortal one of you Won't shriek in mortal fear. For Annabelle was fair of face, A comely shape and size. She won young Danny with her grace, But everything was lies. Her demon heart was hidden well; None dared believe it true. Their wedded life became a Hell Once lovesick Danny knew. He suspected things were not quite right With his darling little missus When once, in telling him "Goodnight," She near smothered him with kisses. His breath regained, he sought to run He had no choice but flee Her answer was a wicked one: "Can't run if you can't see." And so she snared him in her arms And breathed into his ear, "Fall victim to my wiles and charms This one last time, my dear." With less a thought than one might give A stranger's passing face, She put her lips where sight does live Pulled his eyes out of their place. And then she laughed an evil laugh Moved off into the night Left Danny less a man by half And doubled her own sight.
Riley is home. And eating some of her dry food. We still have to syringe-feed her canned food, and there are pills to be given, but she is here and she looks so, so very much better.
The funny thing is, she has never eaten canned food. My mother never fed it to her because her previous owners never did, and we never fed it to her because Mama never did. And here's everybody forcing it on her. She was probably glad to see that crunchy stuff in her own dish.
Riley is now at our vet, and will be until at least Friday. She is showing signs of improvement: she's noticeably less jaundiced, has gained a couple of ounces, has less bilirubin in her urine. They're still having to feed her with a syringe, but that is SO much better than a feeding tube. We miss her, but would prefer she stay with them until she is completely stable.
In addition to calling off all my travel plans for the rest of the year, I've also cancelled acupuncture for the time being. I wasn't having the best luck with it anyway, but that's another weekly cost that would have eaten away at the money I have.
And I'm still looking high and low for a job. Without any luck. Wonder if I qualify for unemployment again?
Just bought this bead from my friend Shannon. Not so clear in the photo, but the "sky" is swirly purple, like a storm. Just gorgeous, and so me. The plan is to make it into a pendant.
I've talked before about how impressed I am with Deborah Norville's sock yarn. For skeins that are marked as containing 230 yards, I can usually make a full pair of socks out of one skein. With these socks, I went a little longer on the body, and this is how much I got done before I had to tie in the second skein. It's just remarkable. And the colors are nice, and there's no reason to pay over $20 for sock yarn when you can get a pair out of a $5 skein.
Klunk misses his big sister. They share Hannah's room. And he loves to play with her swishing tail. Without her, he's had to turn to
Finn for his amusement. Sometimes Finn is willing to play along, sometimes not. We'll all be glad when Riley is back with us.
Riley, my mom's cat whom we adopted, is in the vet hospital as I type, receiving treatment for "fatty liver disease." She hadn't been herself for several days, and last night, we decided we should take her to the emergency vet. They kept her overnight, gave her IV fluids, then we picked her up this morning and took her to our vet. She (our vet) seemed a little grimmer than the emergency vet, and now Hannah is a wreck. She's kicking herself for not having said something sooner.
We've got 24 - 48 hours without her, as the doctors drip more fluids and see if she will eat. She'd become almost skeletal, and, handily, the treatment for this is food. We are hoping she'll be able to eat on her own, or with the help of a syringe. Worst case scenario is a feeding tube.
The bill last night was $630. No telling what a few days at our vet will be. I do know my monthly visits will have to be off for the rest of the year. At least I got one in.
I stop acupuncture, too. It's costly, and I'm not getting any good things out of it.
Right now, I'm just very sleepy. We didn't get back from the emergency vet until after midnight, and I was still lying awake at 4. Doubt that Hannah got much more sleep. And she's supposed to work a 5-hour shift today. All I have is therapy.
If Riley doesn't make it, Hannah will be devastated. First Esme, now this. And she is not the best at telling anyone what she needs, so I'll just have to sort of stand close and let her come to me.
And, if Riley doesn't make it, that's one more way I'll have let Mama down since she died. Another thing I didn't handle well.
Right now, I am going through as bad an emotional spell as I have since I was suicidal. No hope, no energy, constant worry.
I don't want to lay it off on the acupuncture, but after each session I've had, I've been immobilized --- the first time by physical pain, this time by emotional. I just stare straight ahead, unable to move, unable to find a reason to move.
And blogging about it is iffy, as I already feel that I've scared away friends who had once stood steadfastly by me, but lately, have been nowhere to be found. If I were crying wolf, I'd get it.
Second acupuncture session today, and it was a disaster. The needles, the cupping caused pains that made it difficult to breathe. One needle to my hand sent electricity through my fingers. One needle in my foot, in a place that one was last time, caused me to gasp in pain.
Then, all of a sudden, I was crying. Not just tears leaking out of my eyes. Huge, racking sobs. I couldn't stop.
If I can't even endure the treatment, how will I ever get well?
Finn has the oddest habit of grabbing shoes when someone comes in the house. Not when someone is leaving, and needs to put shoes on, but when they're coming in.
When you adopt a rescued pet, you wonder (or at least I do) what kind of life they had before. Finn was definitely trained to "stand up" and have his leash put on. I wonder if this shoe thing was part of his training, too.
Sort of a quiet weekend. Hannah worked both days. I got a good amount of knitting done. Briton came over last night to watch "The Walking Dead." Obligatory Daryl photo now:
I spent a whole lot of time looking up and printing out patterns. I've got a sock and a scarf on the needles right now: the scarf courtesy of Roxanne. A while back, she sent me two skeins of Chunky Mochi (color 817), and one of the patterns I came across was a scarf pattern calling for --- you guessed it --- two skeins of Chunky Mochi.
Got a follow-up appointment with the acupuncturist on Wednesday. I'm anxious to hear her thoughts on the three-day-long headache I had after our first session.
March used to be a fairly busy month for me, events-wise. My wedding anniversary is/was March 10th. Mama's birthday is/was March 24th. Dale's is/was March 31st. Now, it's down to my best friends' birthdays. Shari celebrates hers on March 1st, though she was actually born February 29th. Tomorrow is Lisa's. Hard to believe we're all fifty-flippin'-three years old.
Apparently, some parts of Georgia got snowfall today. Nothing here. Completely unfair.
One week out from my acupuncture treatment. I've had a headache every day (but two) since. I'm doing as much as I can with the new dietary requirements, but can't, and really don't plan to, switch over wholly. More fruits and vegetables, not a problem. All the fermented stuff? A bit more problematic. And, as much as I try, I just cannot drink the amount of water she suggested. I'm drinking more than I used to, but not near as much as I'm "supposed to." Did you know each person is supposed to drink, in ounces, half their body weight in water every day. Not that 8-glasses-a-day rule. That's outdated and uncool.
Some random sentences generated by this artist's book I'm following:
"A stitch is dropped --- the sweater won't be born."