so, i decided i should ask him, though that would totally blow my cover if we settled on the step-outside method.
but i forgot to ask him that evening. instead, i woke up around 2am quietly hollering, "shhhhhhhhh," to whichever cat was doing the nightly yowling. usually, it's ozzy. i think. something made me wake up a little more. just enough to know ttyki wasn't lying next to me. something else, some might say my bladder, told me to get up and go pee for the heck of it. and i did.
i found ttyki in there, madly licking at her food and legs kind of... askance. like, a different kind of askance from her normal arthritic stance. enough for me to know something was wrong. maybe she looked at me with those glassy eyes first and i could remember all this from back when i was pregnant with oliver. the same middle of the night blind luck instead of finding her dead in the morning.
anyway. she was crashing. her blood glucose level was dropping. basically, she was dying. right there. before my eyes. i tried meting out my terror in tiny bursts so that i could balance it with some kind of meaningful action. tears squeezed from my eyes. tiny exclamations from my mouth. i carefully, shakingly went to the kitchen to get the monitor and managed to take a reading. 31. that's really fucking bad. something around zero equals death. by comparison, even on insulin, ttyki usually runs between 350 and off the charts (600+). so, you can imagine.
i had found the karo in the pantry and ungracefully poured it all over ttyki's food, assuming she would find this to be delicious in her state. she was aware just enough to give a what-the-fuck impression. i don't know if she ever ate any. i stuck my head in the bedroom and called for brian once or twice. i went back to the bathroom and did, i don't know what. maybe that's when i went for the karo. i had asked brian to take her to the emergency vet. i didn't feel i could handle the stress of getting her there on my own.
he got dressed and grabbed ttyki and the karo and i told him they wouldn't give a crap if he didn't have his wallet with him. i called my vet and found the on-call physician would take 30 minutes to get there and i told brian to continue on to the emergency clinic. with some doing, he found that place. they really should consider affixing a flashing red light to their door because no one wants to drive around in the middle of the night with their dying pet trying to figure out where, exactly, they are in that strip mall.
brian found it and took her in. the stress of the car ride, during which i could hear her yowling over the phone, had raised her bg to 41. by some miracle, they shaved a cuff of hair off her left front leg and gave her a catheter to administer glucose. she was badly dehydrated. how they knew this, i don't know.
brian returned home and went back to bed. i went and cried on the couch and finally fell back asleep after an hour and a half. i had to be back up to the clinic by 7:30 to pick her up and transfer her to the vet for bill number two. they said the last time she was in there, she weighed 14 pounds. which i totally didn't remember. they were confused when they told me she weighs almost seven pounds and i said, "seven pounds!!!" they didn't know she was up from 4.82.
i felt terrible having her think she was on her way home only to drop her off again. she stayed there all day so they could monitor her.
brian took the kids to school and, at some point after his lack of returning, i realized he was in the middle of driving my car to his far flung office. he wasn't answering his phone and thusly made it all the way there before attaining auto enlightenment. i lost my morning driving to frisco to switch cars, but still somehow managed to go to herb mart for veganish pizza party pizza and whole earth provision for two birthday presents before i had to pick violet up.
the day just slid nilly willy all over the place. we had a party at 5:30 at pump it up. brian had acupuncture, so i was on my own. i couldn't figure out how to get ttyki picked up by seven, assuming she wasn't staying overnight. brian left work early and managed to get her out of there. she was wearing a fancy blue on blue star bandage around her catheter wound.
on the way to the party, i decided i was coming down with the puke bug violet had had the tuesday night prior. and i thought, oh shit. i am going to vomit in the middle of a pump it up party. i was panicking. i even shoved a plastic bag in my purse. oh, and i still had a gigantic, oozing, crusty herpes on my lip with a smaller one mirroring it on the bottom of my lower lip. utter humiliation. there was no avoiding it at a 1.5 hour party.
we got inside and i continued to fret over public puking. we were walked to the back and i made this huge burp and realized i was probably not going to vomit. i had managed to forget socks and so of course this would be the visit where violet wanted to do every last thing in there. i stuck her in one of the obstacle courses and watched her struggle with the peg wall. we moved to the second room and she tore it up by herself on the small obstacle course. she looked so freaking big.
anyhow. i survived the day, even if $700 plus of my money did not. and i had just made a transfer from savings to pay for tuition. they have no idea what caused the episode, so i get to just schmuck around in abject terror that it could happen again. oh, and brian said to call him about juana dying, but don't ask him to step outside or he'll think something's wrong with one of the kids. remember that for when i make a panicked post about juana dying and me not knowing what to do.
scoot ahead and it's monday morning. two weeks after taking the original round of the pin worm medication. violet had woken up the night prior doing that screaming thing again and so i decided we were all going to take the controversial follow up dose. almost immediately after taking my chug-a-lug of the sickly stuff, i felt a wave of nausea that would rise and fall throughout the day. which was kind of strange since i had had none of it the first time. by the time the kids were in bed, i was falling on to the couch and feeling pretty lousy. i suppose that gigantic dinner of awesome spaghetti vodka with cashew cream i had made for dinner was not sitting well. i passed out and awoke alone on the couch around midnight? 2am?
i felt poopy. so i did what anyone would do and went to poop. a whole big bunch came flying out, but i was realizing this might be one of those pre-vomit poops and i grabbed the two vomit towels and made my puke pallet on the floor and boy it didn't take very long before i transitioned to the position of blowing out all that dinner again and again and again. i brushed my teeth and collapsed back on the couch.
man did yesterday suck. my insides and all that spaghetti that managed to survive the first and second waves of attack was being churned by the invisible abdomen fist of power into liquid, to be released bit by bit by bit. i couldn't even stand straight to hobble to the can. i kept thinking i needed to burp and then worried about it turning to puke, the mouth's version of diarrhea farts. and then, i would burp and it would taste like fucking boiled eggs somehow and it continued for ages and i did not know how it could be possible that there was still something in my stomach to make any kind of a taste at all. i would lie there until i started to develop bed sores and would try rolling on to my side, but then i could feel everything inside of me shifting with gravity and those burps would start coming up and sometimes i would revert back to the safety of possible bed sores.
brian obviously had to stay home and play mommy. i tried hollering for him for 20 minutes to get him up before he actually got up and came out and i said, "i'm sick." and he gave me that look he always gives me when this happens... like i'm making it up to sucker him into giving me a day off and believe you me, i would rather clean 100 piles of cat puke and wash 12 sinks of dishes and drive to school 15 times than feel like i was feeling. and he said, "do you think you'll be able to pick them up from school?" as if i had some kind of magical power to know i would be feeling peachy in four hours or less. he's a bit of a robot sometimes. there's not usually any asking how i am or what do i need or what would i like. by the end of the night, i was asking for chips from what he was already eating and he would make me hold my paw up and he would drop them on to it, "jokingly" so he wouldn't get my cooties. germophobe robot. but he did finally put his hand on my shoulder and shake it a little and say he was sorry.
the day was made more miserable by the fact that two projects came in and i had to work for 2.5 hours while the kids were at school and another 2.5 hours last night. brian had a groupon for a singing lesson and i was left in charge of children for an hour and a half. violet did her best to use my stomach as a landing pad. man, did she ever want to sit on my belly. or crush my boobs. she did feed me some of her pretzels as penance, though.
i went to target this morning because my hair dryer died and i looked like i had homeless person hair and i also got some frozen dinners, especially because i certainly did not want spaghetti left overs. i didn't realize until i was on my way home that i had selected the new item from amy's light and lean line, the spaghetti and fake meatballs. oh well. at least it was different spaghetti. and since they were light and lean, i ate two of them. ps: through this, i have learned my body typically carries around approximately four pounds of food.