wounded cats and robots

Yesterday was long and strange.
After work, I met Adam at the Crystal Gateway Marriot in Crystal City and we carpooled home. As soon as we arrived, I called the emergency vet and Adam put Puff in her carrier. About a week or so ago, Jupiter attacked Puff and bit her on her left hip. The laceration was now infected. At the vet's Puff was cleaned up and taken care of, and now we have to give her oral liquid antibiotics twice a day for two weeks. She also has a little soft collar to keep her from licking the spot. She looks very silly. It's blue. It looks like a bonnet. We moved her food and water and even her litter box up to the bedroom until she improves. Jupiter is not allowed out of Jason's room without supervision, and Puff will stay closed off in our bedroom until she heals. Getting Jupiter neutered is now almost a group effort, with Jason so injured. But still it is his cat and his responsibility, however we'll help where we can.
Adam is at the Marriot again. He and some other techs are working with a medical robot. It's rather adorable, in a technological way. It helps doctors see patients without being in the room. I'll meet him there after work, again.

wounded cats and robots

Yesterday was long and strange.
After work, I met Adam at the Crystal Gateway Marriot in Crystal City and we carpooled home. As soon as we arrived, I called the emergency vet and Adam put Puff in her carrier. About a week or so ago, Jupiter attacked Puff and bit her on her left hip. The laceration was now infected. At the vet's Puff was cleaned up and taken care of, and now we have to give her oral liquid antibiotics twice a day for two weeks. She also has a little soft collar to keep her from licking the spot. She looks very silly. It's blue. It looks like a bonnet. We moved her food and water and even her litter box up to the bedroom until she improves. Jupiter is not allowed out of Jason's room without supervision, and Puff will stay closed off in our bedroom until she heals. Getting Jupiter neutered is now almost a group effort, with Jason so injured. But still it is his cat and his responsibility, however we'll help where we can.
Adam is at the Marriot again. He and some other techs are working with a medical robot. It's rather adorable, in a technological way. It helps doctors see patients without being in the room. I'll meet him there after work, again.

wounded cats and robots

Yesterday was long and strange.
After work, I met Adam at the Crystal Gateway Marriot in Crystal City and we carpooled home. As soon as we arrived, I called the emergency vet and Adam put Puff in her carrier. About a week or so ago, Jupiter attacked Puff and bit her on her left hip. The laceration was now infected. At the vet's Puff was cleaned up and taken care of, and now we have to give her oral liquid antibiotics twice a day for two weeks. She also has a little soft collar to keep her from licking the spot. She looks very silly. It's blue. It looks like a bonnet. We moved her food and water and even her litter box up to the bedroom until she improves. Jupiter is not allowed out of Jason's room without supervision, and Puff will stay closed off in our bedroom until she heals. Getting Jupiter neutered is now almost a group effort, with Jason so injured. But still it is his cat and his responsibility, however we'll help where we can.
Adam is at the Marriot again. He and some other techs are working with a medical robot. It's rather adorable, in a technological way. It helps doctors see patients without being in the room. I'll meet him there after work, again.

Caffeina worship and other snapshots

Because of Puff's emergency vet visit, and because I wouldn't dare let myself miss Heroes (by the time I got upstairs to the bedroom and turned on the television, it was exactly nine o'clock), and because of unexpected stress and adrenaline, I found myself coming downstairs around ten and turning on my laptop. Adam, Dan, Jason, Lena, and Jay were watching the movie "Hard Candy" on the projector screen. I was half paying attention (I was also reading the Wikipedia summary of the film and knew that the seemingly innocent teenage girl was anything but and that the pedophile would die at the end). I reminded Adam that he needed to be in Crystal City at seven in the morning, which meant getting up at five-thirty and leaving at six. I would go with him, so he could use the HOV lanes, and so that I could get an early start myself, and so that I wouldn't have to stand at a bus stop in frigid temperatures.
Around eleven, we went upstairs. Adam gave Puff her first dose of antibiotics, which she took rather well, considering no cat likes having a dropper forced into the side of her mouth. We petted her and cuddled her, the fluffy skinny thing she was, with her long rainbow hair and her princess face and her teeny tiny meow, even though she's eight years old. She pet us back, and curled up near my feet wearing that ridiculously cute bonnet collar, and purred and purred. I do feel something for Puff, but eight years of her being skittish and me not really getting close have resulted in me not loving her the way I should. I care deeply for her, but she is not beloved.
Adam and I held each other and talked until midnight. I let my stress out, and my sadness over the loss of Tuesday, and he felt me crying quietly and murmured, "Oh, honey... you're sad!" And I kept saying it was just stress, but yes, I was also sad.
I only got five and a half hours of sleep. This makes me more prone to seizures and asthma attacks, which thankfully did not happen. I followed Adam to the ballroom where he had set up yesterday, and before I left I walked all the way down the long long tunnel to the Crystal City Shops and to the drugstore and brought him back a Sobe Adrenaline Rush, at his request. The other techs thought that was cute.
Since it was only seven-thirty by the time I got to the Gallery Place Metro, I stopped and ate breakfast, which is rare, because I cannot eat a real meal early in the mornings, not without several hours to prepare, or I will get sick. However, I'd had two hours of moving and walking, and had Pepto Bismol tablets in my purse just in case. I stopped in at Camille's Sidewalk Cafe across the street from work, and ate an Herb Garden Sunrise Natu-Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, jasmine rice, scrambled eggs, chives, pesto mayo). My stomach deemed it okay. For lunch, I came back and ordered a Michaelangelo Grilled Hot Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, grilled chicken breast, red onions, roasted red peppers, mozzarella, black olives, thyme, rosemary, balsamic glaze). And -- as the title so says -- I went to Starbucks and got a medium vanilla latte. Oh how I needed it. Oh how it made me feel a hundred times better. Five-thirty on a frozen, single-digit morning is not fun. Caffeine in my veins and it is warm and sweet and milky and I am finally, finally awake.

Caffeina worship and other snapshots

Because of Puff's emergency vet visit, and because I wouldn't dare let myself miss Heroes (by the time I got upstairs to the bedroom and turned on the television, it was exactly nine o'clock), and because of unexpected stress and adrenaline, I found myself coming downstairs around ten and turning on my laptop. Adam, Dan, Jason, Lena, and Jay were watching the movie "Hard Candy" on the projector screen. I was half paying attention (I was also reading the Wikipedia summary of the film and knew that the seemingly innocent teenage girl was anything but and that the pedophile would die at the end). I reminded Adam that he needed to be in Crystal City at seven in the morning, which meant getting up at five-thirty and leaving at six. I would go with him, so he could use the HOV lanes, and so that I could get an early start myself, and so that I wouldn't have to stand at a bus stop in frigid temperatures.
Around eleven, we went upstairs. Adam gave Puff her first dose of antibiotics, which she took rather well, considering no cat likes having a dropper forced into the side of her mouth. We petted her and cuddled her, the fluffy skinny thing she was, with her long rainbow hair and her princess face and her teeny tiny meow, even though she's eight years old. She pet us back, and curled up near my feet wearing that ridiculously cute bonnet collar, and purred and purred. I do feel something for Puff, but eight years of her being skittish and me not really getting close have resulted in me not loving her the way I should. I care deeply for her, but she is not beloved.
Adam and I held each other and talked until midnight. I let my stress out, and my sadness over the loss of Tuesday, and he felt me crying quietly and murmured, "Oh, honey... you're sad!" And I kept saying it was just stress, but yes, I was also sad.
I only got five and a half hours of sleep. This makes me more prone to seizures and asthma attacks, which thankfully did not happen. I followed Adam to the ballroom where he had set up yesterday, and before I left I walked all the way down the long long tunnel to the Crystal City Shops and to the drugstore and brought him back a Sobe Adrenaline Rush, at his request. The other techs thought that was cute.
Since it was only seven-thirty by the time I got to the Gallery Place Metro, I stopped and ate breakfast, which is rare, because I cannot eat a real meal early in the mornings, not without several hours to prepare, or I will get sick. However, I'd had two hours of moving and walking, and had Pepto Bismol tablets in my purse just in case. I stopped in at Camille's Sidewalk Cafe across the street from work, and ate an Herb Garden Sunrise Natu-Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, jasmine rice, scrambled eggs, chives, pesto mayo). My stomach deemed it okay. For lunch, I came back and ordered a Michaelangelo Grilled Hot Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, grilled chicken breast, red onions, roasted red peppers, mozzarella, black olives, thyme, rosemary, balsamic glaze). And -- as the title so says -- I went to Starbucks and got a medium vanilla latte. Oh how I needed it. Oh how it made me feel a hundred times better. Five-thirty on a frozen, single-digit morning is not fun. Caffeine in my veins and it is warm and sweet and milky and I am finally, finally awake.

Caffeina worship and other snapshots

Because of Puff's emergency vet visit, and because I wouldn't dare let myself miss Heroes (by the time I got upstairs to the bedroom and turned on the television, it was exactly nine o'clock), and because of unexpected stress and adrenaline, I found myself coming downstairs around ten and turning on my laptop. Adam, Dan, Jason, Lena, and Jay were watching the movie "Hard Candy" on the projector screen. I was half paying attention (I was also reading the Wikipedia summary of the film and knew that the seemingly innocent teenage girl was anything but and that the pedophile would die at the end). I reminded Adam that he needed to be in Crystal City at seven in the morning, which meant getting up at five-thirty and leaving at six. I would go with him, so he could use the HOV lanes, and so that I could get an early start myself, and so that I wouldn't have to stand at a bus stop in frigid temperatures.
Around eleven, we went upstairs. Adam gave Puff her first dose of antibiotics, which she took rather well, considering no cat likes having a dropper forced into the side of her mouth. We petted her and cuddled her, the fluffy skinny thing she was, with her long rainbow hair and her princess face and her teeny tiny meow, even though she's eight years old. She pet us back, and curled up near my feet wearing that ridiculously cute bonnet collar, and purred and purred. I do feel something for Puff, but eight years of her being skittish and me not really getting close have resulted in me not loving her the way I should. I care deeply for her, but she is not beloved.
Adam and I held each other and talked until midnight. I let my stress out, and my sadness over the loss of Tuesday, and he felt me crying quietly and murmured, "Oh, honey... you're sad!" And I kept saying it was just stress, but yes, I was also sad.
I only got five and a half hours of sleep. This makes me more prone to seizures and asthma attacks, which thankfully did not happen. I followed Adam to the ballroom where he had set up yesterday, and before I left I walked all the way down the long long tunnel to the Crystal City Shops and to the drugstore and brought him back a Sobe Adrenaline Rush, at his request. The other techs thought that was cute.
Since it was only seven-thirty by the time I got to the Gallery Place Metro, I stopped and ate breakfast, which is rare, because I cannot eat a real meal early in the mornings, not without several hours to prepare, or I will get sick. However, I'd had two hours of moving and walking, and had Pepto Bismol tablets in my purse just in case. I stopped in at Camille's Sidewalk Cafe across the street from work, and ate an Herb Garden Sunrise Natu-Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, jasmine rice, scrambled eggs, chives, pesto mayo). My stomach deemed it okay. For lunch, I came back and ordered a Michaelangelo Grilled Hot Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, grilled chicken breast, red onions, roasted red peppers, mozzarella, black olives, thyme, rosemary, balsamic glaze). And -- as the title so says -- I went to Starbucks and got a medium vanilla latte. Oh how I needed it. Oh how it made me feel a hundred times better. Five-thirty on a frozen, single-digit morning is not fun. Caffeine in my veins and it is warm and sweet and milky and I am finally, finally awake.

living phantom limbs, and seizures

My left leg and arm have decided to play "living phantom limbs" for the rest of the day.
This is a phenomenon that happens rarely, so I don't talk about it much.
Sometimes, with the cerebral palsy, the connection between the muscles and my brain falls apart. My limbs will feel numb and faded, frozen, invisible. If I weren't paying attention to them, they wouldn't even register consciously. Also, a certain apathy forms. I won't care about my arm and leg. It happened so often in my childhood that my parents and doctors and therapists began forcing me to be aware of my left side -- approaching me from my left, squeezing the hand, touching the leg. I will feel the sensation of touch and acknowledge it, but it would not properly register, or it would take several seconds for me to say, 'Yes, I feel you scratching the top of my thigh."
When we got married, Adam instinctively stood on my left side during the ceremony (although that is also the Jewish tradition, so it was not out of place).
Most of the time, on the heels of this reduced awareness of my left leg and arm comes a bold hyperawareness of the rest of my body. This often will lead to simple partial seizures, preceded by a "moving elevator" sensation in my stomach and head, a sense of spinning wildly, a sense of intense heat and then chills, an unpleasant metallic, bloody or burnt taste in the back of my mouth, itching along the roof of my mouth, throbbing in my sinuses, tingling in the fingers and toes on my right side, and the illusion of flashing colored lights inside my head. Why yes, that is happening now.
Although, I have gotten good at not letting the small seizures disrupt my daily routines. If I must, I go into the restroom and sit in a stall to ride it out.
This will go away soon, I am not too worried. But it is always useful to make keen, detailed observations to record for reference.

living phantom limbs, and seizures

My left leg and arm have decided to play "living phantom limbs" for the rest of the day.
This is a phenomenon that happens rarely, so I don't talk about it much.
Sometimes, with the cerebral palsy, the connection between the muscles and my brain falls apart. My limbs will feel numb and faded, frozen, invisible. If I weren't paying attention to them, they wouldn't even register consciously. Also, a certain apathy forms. I won't care about my arm and leg. It happened so often in my childhood that my parents and doctors and therapists began forcing me to be aware of my left side -- approaching me from my left, squeezing the hand, touching the leg. I will feel the sensation of touch and acknowledge it, but it would not properly register, or it would take several seconds for me to say, 'Yes, I feel you scratching the top of my thigh."
When we got married, Adam instinctively stood on my left side during the ceremony (although that is also the Jewish tradition, so it was not out of place).
Most of the time, on the heels of this reduced awareness of my left leg and arm comes a bold hyperawareness of the rest of my body. This often will lead to simple partial seizures, preceded by a "moving elevator" sensation in my stomach and head, a sense of spinning wildly, a sense of intense heat and then chills, an unpleasant metallic, bloody or burnt taste in the back of my mouth, itching along the roof of my mouth, throbbing in my sinuses, tingling in the fingers and toes on my right side, and the illusion of flashing colored lights inside my head. Why yes, that is happening now.
Although, I have gotten good at not letting the small seizures disrupt my daily routines. If I must, I go into the restroom and sit in a stall to ride it out.
This will go away soon, I am not too worried. But it is always useful to make keen, detailed observations to record for reference.

living phantom limbs, and seizures

My left leg and arm have decided to play "living phantom limbs" for the rest of the day.
This is a phenomenon that happens rarely, so I don't talk about it much.
Sometimes, with the cerebral palsy, the connection between the muscles and my brain falls apart. My limbs will feel numb and faded, frozen, invisible. If I weren't paying attention to them, they wouldn't even register consciously. Also, a certain apathy forms. I won't care about my arm and leg. It happened so often in my childhood that my parents and doctors and therapists began forcing me to be aware of my left side -- approaching me from my left, squeezing the hand, touching the leg. I will feel the sensation of touch and acknowledge it, but it would not properly register, or it would take several seconds for me to say, 'Yes, I feel you scratching the top of my thigh."
When we got married, Adam instinctively stood on my left side during the ceremony (although that is also the Jewish tradition, so it was not out of place).
Most of the time, on the heels of this reduced awareness of my left leg and arm comes a bold hyperawareness of the rest of my body. This often will lead to simple partial seizures, preceded by a "moving elevator" sensation in my stomach and head, a sense of spinning wildly, a sense of intense heat and then chills, an unpleasant metallic, bloody or burnt taste in the back of my mouth, itching along the roof of my mouth, throbbing in my sinuses, tingling in the fingers and toes on my right side, and the illusion of flashing colored lights inside my head. Why yes, that is happening now.
Although, I have gotten good at not letting the small seizures disrupt my daily routines. If I must, I go into the restroom and sit in a stall to ride it out.
This will go away soon, I am not too worried. But it is always useful to make keen, detailed observations to record for reference.