Well! It’s been a couple of weeks now. A blurry, tired couple of weeks.
A summary of events, in list form:
- Frank had to go to the vet for an itchy bottom. I expected an anal gland issue. It ended up being constipation. The vet bill was stupidly expensive, of course, but I’m okay with paying someone else to give my cat an enema. I also had the vet check his eye that has teared off and on since I adopted him. I expected a blocked tear duct. It ended up being mild conjunctivitis. VET, I KNOW NOTHING. I had to stick ointment in Frank’s eye twice a day, and after the first application, he was walking around with a half-closed eye, behaving as though his eye hurt. After a couple days of that, I called the vet and was like, “Why are you trying to hurt my sweet kitty with your evil eye ointment?” and she said, “Let’s wait a few more days, as long as he’s still playing and eating like normal.” So I held Frank over the bathroom sink and flushed his eye with water, and you know what? His eye is back to normal. (Normal being occasionally teary.) VET, I DOUBT YOUR EXPERTISE.
- My sister finally got engaged. There are no additional details. I cannot accurately express how glad I am to be thousands of miles away from all of that. If that makes me a horrible sister, so be it. I don’t need no stinkin’ wedding drama!
- I’m on yet another new med to try to fix my 14-year-long sleep issue. The theory is, if I manage to get good sleep, my depression and relentless fatigue should go away, or at least be minimized. Sounds like a dream! The med is actually for hypertension, which I don’t even come close to having, so now I have to be careful about my blood pressure dipping too low. It’s also used for PTSD to cut waaaay back on nightmares. I guess that having at least one nightmare every night isn’t normal? Blah. So far I haven’t noticed a reduction in the crazy dreaming. Last night I had an absolutely terrifying nightmare, and I’d be surprised if my screaming in my dream didn’t happen in real life, too. Luckily, it was followed by a really strange but pleasant dream involving Richard Gere (and no hankypanky). I need to watch some schmoopy Richard Gere movies now. *sigh*
- I have visitors coming this week and it still looks like I’ve been squatting in my apartment. As of last week, I have what essentially amounts to a poolside lounger in my living room, so you can tell I’ve really been classing the place up. ACK.
That’s it for now. Gotta go try to make my apartment presentable…
It’s been an unnecessarily rough few weeks. I kept thinking, Oh, I really ought to write about this, and then I’d try to figure out how to say what I wanted to say, and it was a muddy mess. And potentially more than I’m comfortable disclosing. So maybe I’ll begin to sort through this stuff in the next few weeks and try to lift some of the weight from my shoulders.
I discovered this week just how horrendous seasonal allergies can be. Broadleaf maple trees, otherwise known as “Oregon maples,” are my latest nemesis. Since they’re unavoidable — I live in the state they’re named after — I’m doomed. Back in Ohio, I’d experience what mainly felt like a mild cold, usually at its most irritating during weed pollen time. As I ran under a line of broadleaf maples the other night, tromping on their flowers piled on the sidewalks and streets, I felt my throat tighten and my nose instantly turned into a spigot. I coughed and coughed and couldn’t breathe, and then my eyes started to itch. An inhaler sure would’ve been nice to have on hand! The rest of the time I’m just dealing with a sore/scratchy throat, swollen glands, and a persistent cough. This would be less of a worry if I didn’t have a marathon on Sunday.
This Sunday. A day and a half from now. Ack.
This morning I felt lousy enough to consider calling off work (but didn’t). I spent the morning contemplating the idea of switching from the marathon to the half marathon. But you know what? I realized I had no intention of racing it anyway, and with the prevalence of my new favorite trees, I was just going to go out there and enjoy the gorgeous weather and scenery. My fellow Portland running chicks are out there to challenge time goals, and it’s so easy for me to get caught up in that mindset and start comparing myself to them in the millions of ways that female runners do. In my dream of dreams, I’d like to break 5 hours. Back in December when I registered for this, I anticipated a much more regimented training plan. I was gonna aim for 4:30! But my health has been just lousy enough for me to not feel well enough to run and work out as much as I’d like to. Ah well. I sure did enough running in the first half of 2011 to earn some downtime.
And now for a kitty story! So as you may know, Frank is a superb snuggler. It’s been really difficult for me to get out of bed in the morning, not just for the usual reasons, but because Frank is snuggling aggressively and will bite me if I try to get up. Well last night, while lying on my back in my burning throat coughing poor breathing state, Frank climbed onto my chest and settled in with his front paws pressing on the bottom of my throat (which is quite raw from all the hacking). The next thing I knew, he’d lowered his head onto my shoulder, nestling in between my hair and my neck. I leaned my head in that direction to return the snuggle, and ohh, soft kitty cheek on your face is a little like heaven.
I leave for my first business trip early tomorrow morning. Luckily, I’m headed to Columbus! I’m trying to be somewhat stealthy so that my family doesn’t demand a visit and so that I don’t end up having to wrangle my emotions around them. They’re back to pretending nothing ever happened – not over a decade ago, not last year, and not at Christmas. I don’t think they realize how hurtful that is. So even though I’m just visiting with friends during the non-business part of the trip, I’m more anxious than I realized. And I had to take my little snugglebunny Frank to the vet/boarders this evening and oh, how he and I cried! Lying in bed now, I miss him terribly. All evening I’ve kept thinking I hear his little footsteps on the carpet. It’s been a while since I’ve had such a strong attachment to someone (not counting my therapists – ha!). I can’t imagine feeling that way about someone else now, unless it was my child. I sense a satisfying psychological hairball in all of this. Good thing I have a sweet kitty to benefit from my raging maternal instinct!
Well! It’s been an eventful past week-ish. I intended to write a few things in the time that’s elapsed, but someone keeps distracting me.
Frank and I found each other last Saturday, when the DMV happened to be closed and a cat shelter happened to be located across the street. I walked into the room where he and a bunch of other cats were hanging out, and when I crouched down to say hello to the cats, he ran over and jumped onto my lap. Then he threw his paws around my waist and hugged me. (He may have also shouted, “MAMA!” when he first saw me. I don’t know.) At any rate, Frank and I have been getting to know each other over the past week, and he’s quite the loverboy. He’s an excellent communicator, too — much better than any guy I’ve ever dated. The photo above is from one of our nightly pillowtalk sessions. Frank + me = 4ever.
You may have also heard about the epic rainstorms we’ve been having here in western Oregon. The part of Portland I used to live in got hit with high elevation snow, then landslides. The part of Oregon where I work flooded like a champ. The part of Oregon where I currently live is just right.
I headed to Corvallis Friday night to stop by the music store in town and pick up an instrument for Saturday night’s Jam Fest 2012 (Part 1). In true unlucky Caitlin fashion, I got stuck in a traffic jam (Corvallis is in the middle of nowhere, so WTH?!) and an hour later, once I’d nearly reached my destination, I was hit by a 17-year-old. I’ve been driving for how many years? Almost 14? And my two accidents have happened in the span of the last 4 months. Luckily, it wasn’t a bad accident (we were stopped at a red light and she merged into me), and since this girl’s about to lose her license (I’m shocked), her dad is just going to pay for the repairs, no insurance claim necessary, which I appreciate. But still. The silver bullet has to go back into the shop. And the girl repeatedly called me ma’am. I may be about to turn 30, but I’m not ma’am age yet! ARGH.
Somehow I made it to the music shop before it closed, even though the universe seemed to be working against me. Guess what kind of instrument I picked up? Hint: After a few hours of playing it, I think I’m more skilled than I am when playing my acoustic guitar…
And now, for your music-listening pleasure:
Kathleen Edwards – Change the Sheets