My kitchen sink is currently non-usable due to clog. I’ve tried everything I was equipped to do, TWO maintenance guys have tried to unclog it with no luck. Either DH or I needs to pick up a plumbing snake. I cannot deal with not being able to use the kitchen before Monday.
This gets me to the rant portion: WHY can maintenance not obtain a new snake before Monday? Can no one who works for this building go to a hardware store?
That is an option, thanks for the info.
I was hoping this crap would end on its own.
I can’t imagine why maintenance wouldn’t already have a snake. That’s pretty standard equipment.
I would have thought so. The one who was here today told me one was on the way, but won’t be here until Monday. :mad:
Meanwhile, one trip to Home Depot for a snake followed by a side scurry to the nearby Big Lots for more drain opener and my husband thinks we might have this under some degree of control.
Dear TLC channel.
I quit watching your shows recently because you have to run that damn Honey Boo Boo during every frigging ad break. Now you are running it on (so far) Discovery, the Food Channel and USA.
Damn.
My grandpa’s in the hospital because of chest pains. He was having some pain yesterday but took some nitroglycerin and didn’t tell anyone. In the middle of the night, things got bad enough that he woke up my aunt and told her to call 911. My aunt is supposed to call me tomorrow morning once they know when he’s going to be taken for cardiac catheterization. He’s 92 years old and has had a leaky heart valve for years, so it’s not unexpected, but still upsetting.
My mother hoped that too. She ended up in the hospital, where they considered giving her a blood transfusion because she was so anemic, and set up an appointment to do her hysterectomy. (She had a mass they were concerned about that turned out to not be a malignancy; otherwise they might have simply done an ablation.) Don’t just put up with it because you think it’s easier than treatment.
Until sahirrnee sees her doctor, there is no reason for her to believe she has a mass of any sort. Most dysfunctional uterine bleeding is simply the hormones gone wild, not cancer.
But a thorough exam by a gyno is in order.
I had to live without a kitchen sink for 10 days. It sucked big time. You have my sympathy.
My rant: Lucky has turned into an asshole cat. Now he is getting into the kitchen cabinets and shedding over everything and upsetting Karen. Lucky has learned that if he sleeps on Bill’s foot, Bill won’t move and will wake up with a sore back.
Lucky also like to go upstairs and thumb his nose at Steve. I don’t know what he is telling Steve, but we wake up hearing horrible feral screams in the middle of the night. For those who don’t know, Lucky is a front declawed cat who is missing half of his teeth. Steve is a fully armed feral cat who lives in a cage. If the cage door was ever left open, Steve would retreat to his house and then eat Lucky’s face if he stuck it in there.
And…Bill is kind of a butthead as well. He has to go to Oklahama on Wednesday and told me that I am already saving him money because now he doesn’t have to pay for a cat sitter.
Stomps off to the Churlish Corner, starts a pot of coffee and finds the Bailey’s.
It took me a couple of days to be ready to write this, but I want to get it over with. (tl;dr – a cat-related rollercoaster that crashes into a wall at the end.)
As noted upthread, several weeks ago my 13-year-old, helplessly indoor, declawed (not by me) cat got out and disappeared. We scoured the neighborhood, sent a message to the neighborhood petwatch, etc. At one point about ten days ago, I thought I saw her and called and called, set food out, etc. but the cat didn’t come out from under my deck, and I convinced myself it wasn’t her.
It was.
A couple of days ago, my wife and I went out into the back yard to take some things to the garage, and we heard a weak meow from the deck area. We went over and found our girl with one of her back legs trapped between two slats on an Adirondack chair, upside down, shivering with cold and ready to give up. She hissed and snapped at us when we approached, from fear and misery and probably after a long, cold night fighting off the neighborhood possum.
We managed to get her free (no way she could have freed herself – she would have had to levitate two feet straight up into the air), saw that her leg was hanging limply and chewed up from where she’d been twisting back and forth trying to free it, wrapped her in a towel and raced to the vet. At this point we were worried but thrilled – the cat was back! It was a Xmas miracle! etc. We took pix and posted on Facebook with the good news.
Then the vet told us that her leg had sustained so much nerve damage from lack of blood flow that it would have to be amputated. Furthermore, she was severely dehydrated and hypothermic from her (I estimate) 24-hour ordeal in the Adirondack chair, and would have to be nursed back to health before the amputation could be done. The estimate for her treatment froze our blood ($1700-plus), but we were going to get CareCredit and pay for it somehow. This despite my saying (back when it wasn’t MY cat) that it was beyond stupid for people to go into debt for pet hospitalizations. “Hell, you could get 17 NEW cats for that much money!” I would have said.
We paid a $400 deposit and left to go home and update Chef Jr., who was home from college and had been there when we brought the cat in. Lil’ Miss Sous-Chef went home from school with a friend – we asked the friend’s mom not to say anything about the cat to her yet, forgetting that the friend has a Facebook account and would see the “good” news we’d posted.
Then the vet called and made the news worse: she told us that because Astro had been a very overweight cat, when she’d gone missing and started missing meals, it trashed her liver. She now held out little hope that our girl would even survive the amputation operation. Feeling boxed in, we decided to have her euthanized. Chef Jr. decided to come with us to say goodbye, declaring that regret it forever if he didn’t, so the three of us went down to the vet and petted her and told her what a good girl she was and cried on each other. Then the vet came in and took her life. Mrs. Chef (who is the toughest one of us) stayed inside to settle the bill, and Chef Jr. and I went out and sat in the car.
(Wow, I thought I was ready to tell you guys this, but I’m bawling all over again. Onward through the storm.)
Everyone keeps telling me not to blame myself, but they don’t fool me at all. This was 100% my fault. I’m the one who left the door open. I’m the one who didn’t take care of her like she deserved. I’m the one who let her down and she lost her life because of it. The only thing – the ONLY thing – that’s good about all this is that we found her in time to make her last moments warm and comfortable instead of cold and terror-filled.
The worst part? That very day, we were about to go look into adopting a kitten to replace her. On top of everything else, I gave up on her. The rest of my family is talking about looking into getting two kittens in a couple of months, but right now I NEVER want another cat. I’ll just fuck it up.
hugs Chef Im so sorry about your cat Chef. Ive had to have a few put down too and one just walked away and died on his own. It sux either way.
You didnt fuck up, man. You gave her a good life, better than she would have had on her own, she lived to be 13!
ANYONE could have left the door open! If your wife or kid had left a door open and Astro had gotten out would you castigate either of them like youre doing to yourself? Of course not.
No, Chef Troy, no way was this your fault. It was a shitty sequence of events and I am so sorry you had to go through this, but you did give her love all those years and you helped her a great deal at the end. Don’t be afraid to give love and care to another cat some day. Do it in memory of your girl.
Damn, CT. I don’t even know what to say, except that you shouldn’t blame yourself.
Sending good thoughts and wishes your way.
What a terrible story. I am so sorry for everyone involved. I’m like you, I’d be beating myself up for years over that. I do have some idea as to how horrified you would be to see your kitteh hanging upside down and hissing and growling. Horrible, horrible, terrible. I’m so sorry this happened.
You are allowed to think that you are a total fuck-up who should never be allowed to ever be trusted with a cat again.
However…if you don’t adopt a new cat, some other cat will die. Kittens always find homes, maybe you could consider another adult cat?
I lost a LOT of cats when the food was bad. I really did think that I should stop doing rescue because I let so many cats die. It really sucked, and I felt responsible.
I can understand why you’re blaming yourself; I would be, too. If only I hadn’t left the damned door open; if only I’d looked harder; if only…but it was an accident. Accidents happen. You didn’t hurt your cat on purpose. I hope some day you can forgive yourself for being a human and making a mistake.
Damn Chef Troy I’m so sorry this has happened to you - I’m bawling with you.
Please listen to the other posters - you are a human and you made mistakes. Please don’t cause you to not give another kitty or two a good home.
I’m very sorry, Chef Troy, but please take everyone’s advice and don’t blame yourself.
You’re a good man, Troy. Never doubt it.
I didn’t say I suspected sahirrnee had a mass, the point was my mom put up with the bleeding until she almost bled out. If my mother hadn’t had a mass, they may have done an ablation instead of a hysterectomy.
And Chef, I didn’t read to your post before answering; I’m sorry about what happened to your kitty. Feddup’s right, if someone else had been the one to leave the door open (such an ordinary thing to do!) you wouldn’t tell them “no, you can’t have a new cat, you’ll just fuck it up” would you?