Totally awesome are bunnies yes. Example: Impulse and the kraken Impulse and the kraken | a rare shot of the Australaisian re… | Flickr She likes to wash him.
Thanks for that. Unfortunately I live in a small rural town so my options are limited.
I started having contractions two nights ago. I could still walk and talk though so I didn’t bother going in then. I did wind up on the L&D floor yesterday, not because of the contractions, which were gaining in intensity and frequency, so much as the fact that I had had a severe, persistent headache for three days and when I checked my blood pressure (I’ve been monitoring it at home to prove to my doctor - who you may remember is a world away in South Korea right now - that I have white coat hypertension rather than for real “let’s be concerned about this at all” anything) several times in those three days, I was consistently coming up with 160-170/up to 90. So pretty bad considering the same equipment in the same setting had been showing 120s/50s this entire time (i.e., even if I’m fucking it up somehow, which I’m not, that shows a significant change if not accurate numbers)
So I get up to L&D and, because of a miscommunication, the nurse assumes I’m there because I think I’m in labor. I actually do think I’m probably having fairly productive contractions but I explain that my primary concern is BP.
The first thing she does is assume I’m dehydrated and that my contractions are not true contractions at all and hooks me up to an IV. I don’t know what she started at but she eventually turned the drop rate down to 25 ml/hr which, IMO, is retarded. Then she tells me they “don’t like doing cervical checks anymore.” Uhh, okay…
Fast forward about half the bag and way past my lunch time. Contractions every 3-4 minutes, appropriately erratic fetal heart rate, and me convinced we could probably get this show on the road right now. Meanwhile, my blood pressure is totally fine, great in fact, and the fact that the cuff is very clearly way too big is of no concern for her. She also remains convinced that I’m not actually in labor at all despite saying that the only way to really tell is through a cervical exam that she isn’t going to do anyway.
Having been through L&D twice, I’ll say that this is just about as bad as labor has ever felt for me. I’ve never required pharm intervention but my labor does not progress well without somebody breaking my water. I was at this exact level of labor for four days with my first, never dilated to more than 4, and when the doctor finally stepped in, I had a baby within a few hours. With my second, I didn’t even bother going in until I’d been like this for 2 days. Water broken, baby just under 3 hours later.
So then the doctor, with whom my own doctor spoke prior to leaving, comes in and says, “I’m not breaking your water until your contractions are strong enough to produce cervical change.” Oh. Okay. So I said, “Really? Do you maybe want to check up on that, then?” And he did but, without anything at all to compare it to thanks to Ms. I Don’t Like Cervical Checks, how the fuck does he know if there’s been any change?! “Tell you what. I’ll break your water at 39 weeks.” Hmm. I’ll tell YOU what. I’m not living like this for the next week so how about go fuck yourself. My doctor is gone so at this point I don’t really give a shit who it is between my legs when the time comes, provided that person actually listens.
I still have SUCH A DAMN HEADACHE, OMG. Not sleeping for two days probably isn’t helping.
I’m fine, horseshoe. I was just a little upset because I thought I wasn’t going to be invited to something, but it turns out I am. 
And yes, Cat Whisperer, our Canadian money is very cool. Now if only I had more of it and it would stop disappearing from my wallet… :rolleyes:
The $20, $50, and $100 are out of date and the $5 and $10 are very close to being out of date. Frontiers series - Bank of Canada
Oh, and Cat Whisperer, your cat is adorable.
I doubt this would work for medication-based treatment, but if you’re looking for talk therapy, there are therapists that use Skype. I’m not sure how much overlap there is between therapists that use Skype and therapists that take Medicare, but it should expand your options a whole lot. My (excellent) therapist has a substantial number of Skype patients.
Figured out my itching is not mosquito bites, but chiggers. Mentally, I think that’s worse as mosquitoes just bite, but chiggers inject a feeding tube. Apparently they do not burrow in as I previously was told. I hate the thought of bugs injecting tubes, of all things, into my skin.
I’m fucking sick of this. Months ago I suggested to a friend that he might enjoy coming to a club I go to every week, and he seemed pretty keen. It would mean me picking him up, so I’ve sent occasional messages asking if he was up for it this week. He then spent the whole summer sending replies like ‘Ack, sorry! I’m going to be in France/London/Antarctica next week 
I’ll be back on saturday though! x’, to every single message.
He got back properly a few weeks ago, so I reminded him last week about the club, but he he couldn’t make it that evening, and suggested this week. So I text him today to double check, and… oh. No. He’s busy… Joining his housemate at her weekly class.
Why the fuck suggest this week then? Why not just say “Actually, I’m not really bothered. I originally thought it’d be fun, but I can’t really be arsed. If I actually chance my mind some point in the future, I’ll see if you’re still OK to give me a lift then.” If you make plans with people, why not fucking stick to them? Yeah, sure, work or family life can get a bit hectic sometimes, and you get called away or have to stay home at short notice for some reason. Sometimes. And it’s a weekly club, it’ll still be there next week. I get that.
But turning someone down, at a time you yourself suggested, because someone else invited you to something more fun? Repeatedly? That’s just fucking insulting.
I know! She’s less adorable jumping on us at 3:00 in the morning when she wants to play, mind you.
I hate friggin’ chigger bites. I get a couple every summer and the itching just never stops with those stupid things!
The vet Saturday evening confirmed what my wife and I already suspected: our 18-year old cat Smokey, is going into kidney failure.
He was diagnosed as diabetic almost 5 years ago; but we’ve been able to successfully control it with special diabetic cat food, so insulin shots weren’t needed after the first few weeks. Since then he’s been pretty good, health-wise, although these last few months it’s been obvious that he was getting some arthritis in his hips.
But the last 2-3 weeks, he’s lost a pound of weight - weight that he couldn’t afford to lose. He’s just under 5 pounds now, and is nothing but skin and bones. He also started having more and more trouble with the back legs at the same time; sitting splay-legged, dragging them a bit, etc.
He and his sister (who we lost 6 years ago to cancer) were wild kittens when we got them - neither one ever became much of a people cat even after all these years - but I’m still not ready to say goodbye.
He’s still eating and drinking (drinking a lot, actually), but I dread the day when he’s no longer interested in eating his special treats and home-cooked chicken. Don’t know how long he has left with us - a few days, a few weeks - but it’s going to be all too soon.
Did your vet recommend having him put down? It sounds like he’s not in very good shape and it’s probably going to get worse. If he were mine, I’d rather not have him suffer.
The vet said that she didn’t think that he was in any pain – probably just felt as if he had a case of the 'flu. As long as he’s interested in eating and drinking, isn’t showing signs of any significant discomfort, or having too much difficulty getting around, she didn’t feel that it was time to take that step just yet.
But yeah, that day’s going to come sooner rather than later.
I’m sorry to hear that, Runestar. We lost a cat to kidney disease last Christmas, and it went pretty much like you’re describing - she drank a lot, peed a lot, and slept a lot, but we didn’t think she was actually in any pain. She got fussier and fussier with her food - at the end, we would just feed her anything she would eat. We knew when it was time to take her into the vet for the Final Visit (well, my husband knew - I was at work) - she was just done.
I got some good news today. I’m posting about it here to vent the frustration from events leading up to the good news.
Here is the timeline:
- Mom & Dad get survey done to change boundary on the north side of their property in Idaho in order to accommodate a neighbor’s fence, about 1995.
- The new map gets recorded. The legal description, which is supposed to be filed at the same time, does not.
- This is discovered when my mother dies in 2012 and the house is put up for sale. The deed is incorrect and will have to be fixed.
- Realtor tries to contact the surveyor, but he’s out of business.
- Realtor tries to contact new surveyor who bought out the old surveyor’s business, but the Idaho shuffle happens. (Appologies to any go-getters in Idaho. Mom & Dad picked a small town and no business seems to answer their own phone or to return calls within a week. It doesn’t help that I’m 800 miles away.)
- Realtor phones other surveyors, but only gets more shuffle.
- House now has buyer - buyer has Realtor - buyer’s Realtor has a husband who’s a surveyor.
- Buyer’s Realtor’s husband looks at what’s recorded, confirms that map does not match description.
- Buyer’s Realtor sees that her husband is the surveyor who bought out the surveyor who did the map and goes through all the old files that came with the office until she finds the legal description that was written up along with the new map back in 1995 (I confirm that, yes, that’s my deceased father’s name on the paperwork).
- Buyer’s Realtor’s husband the surveyor confirms that the legal description that his wife found in his files indeed matches the recorded map and can be recorded to complete the deed.
- Our Realtor says that we may have to sign something, but that it can probably be done as part of the sale.
- Hallelujah!
There may be happy dancing later. Or head-desking. Or both
Oh, and apparently the whole time they lived there my parents had Shroedinger’s Water Rights to the river in the back yard. They had applied to have the water rights transferred from the previous owners, but only sent in the map part of the deed and not the legal description. So the department has been inspecting their hookup as if they had water rights but the file is still on hold waiting for the part of the deed that we still can’t send because . . . :smack:
On the up side, the rules have changed and all the new owners need to do to get the water rights transferred is prove that they own the property by turning in the deed map and legal description, which we will finally be able to provide.
Unless something else happens. This is a house sale, after all.
My husband and I are moving, hopefully in a couple weeks. Our near-dream place turned out to have been already claimed days before the agent showed it to us. :mad: Now we’ve found an almost-as-great place in a very-decent-but-not-uber-awesome area, and submitted our paperwork.
Similarly, today, I submitted an internal job application for a job in another department, as I’ve been feeling very unappreciated at work, and hearing sympathy and agreement when I mention details to anyone. Like, for instance, stomping down on an attempt to do career development stuff which only takes a few hours a month of my time. This was fine when it benefited our department because I acted as an “ambassador” to this other department and helped smooth the way for things to get approved, but now that my coworker has dropped down to extremely part-time status, all of a sudden I can’t do anything except put my nose to the grindstone and get worked to the bone.
And now that everything’s out of my hands I’m way more stressed than I was before, because I have no control over the process! I was like this in high school speech competitions, too - excited beforehand, then nervous as fuck after I was done because again, I had no more input into my “fate.”
Oh bloody hell.
I heard an odd noise and turned around. Maggie had managed to pull down my Karate Tiger from the shelf. (When you squeeze it, it makes a couple of different karate noises.) I pick it up and notice that it is wet, and has a little bit of blood on it. Then I notice the musk smell.
My little kitty girl has become a woman, and apparently fallen in love with the Karate Tiger.
Washed it and put it out of her reach.
Guess I’d better make an appointment to get her spayed very soon. Think I’ll go do that now.
Let Maggie have Karate Tiger. He’s already been deflowered, and if she doesn’t have KT, she will find a new love until you get her spayed.
Also, if you have guests when she’s in the mood, Maggie will drag out her current True Love and demonstrate just how much she loves it. Or else she will fall in love with one or more of your guests, and attempt to seduce him or her. This is, of course, the very BEST time to invite any proselytizers to come in and have some tea and a nice chat.
My bf’s having surgery today (bone graft + ankle/foot reconstruction) and I can’t sleep. The related medical and financial woes are stressing me RIGHT the fuck out. I could really use a cig and/or a bong hit. Both things I have given up for him, but eventually I’m probably going to crumble (to the latter at least).
May the god that I don’t believe in grant me strength, or something like that.
Best of luck to you and your boyfriend, Rachellelogram.
Goddam fuckers at work. I am currently doing temp work at a R&D pilot plant. The work is decent but not great for the y-yo work schedule they have had me on. They have been having some mechanical issues and we have been mostly shutdown for the past couple of weeks. The beginning of last week it was “You’ll be working four tens this week doing make work.” Then Tuesday it was “Can you stay until like 8 or 9. We need to you to work 12 hour shifts the rest of the week testing some equipment.” Then Friday morning I was told after that shift the temps would be furloughed this week until 10/14. Then “Oops we might need you for a couple hours Saturday morning. Someone will text you around 6 am or so.” Get the text and get in there and a couple hours turns into 10! Just now, I get another text “We need you to work the rest of the week”. Fuck! Am I allowed to plan my life more than a day in advance?
Believe me, I am actively looking for something else.