It’s been a while since I have written much. A week or two ago I was going to finally write about my dog but then I added up what I spent and I became so angry again that I couldn’t do it. However, its been a week since then and I’ve had some time to reflect.
I originally took my dog to the vet on a Monday because she wasn’t able to jump up on the couch and started having trouble walking up the steps. The vet did an X-ray and saw an area around T-12 on her spine that was losing density. She had never seen that before and it was concerning to her, so she sent it out to have a specialist look at it. There was a good possibility it was cancer.
I should have called on Thursday to see if it had been read but I’m going to be real here and say I was afraid they were going to tell me it was cancer and she only had a week or two left. By the time Sunday came she could barely stand up and was screaming and crying in the way dogs do. So I load her up in the car and take her to VSS. They come out to get her and she jumps out of the car and starts walking around. They charge me a hundred bucks for different pain medicine and told me to get the x-ray read. I did not know at this time that they were the ones who were suppose to be reading it.
Monday arrives and the dog won’t even put her back leg down and by this time she is only getting up two or three times a day to potty and that is it. I call the vet and inform them she’s coming in. Now somewhere between the time I called and arrived VSS finally took a look at the x-ray. Now isn’t that convenient. They feel she has a bladder infection that seeded to her T-12 vertebral plate. Say what? My vet had never heard of this and because the dog was in such bad shape I had them keep her there overnight. They ran some tests and finally got a urine sample and sure enough Moonie had a bladder infection. The craziest thing is Moonie never acted like she had one. She never peed in the house, asked to go out a million times or anything. Just one day she couldn’t jump up on the couch.
I pick her up on Tuesday because the guy at the desk couldn’t take her whining anymore. They had to take her out of the cage she was in and put her in the extra exam room so she would be quiet. I naively thought after a day or two of antibiotics she would be back to her old self. She came home on codeine, gabepentin, augmentin, vetprofen, and pepcid. I was giving her stuff four times a day. She was on more medicine than half of the patients at my work. After about a week we switched out her codeine for tramadol and she took a second round of antibiotics. She finally got off everything this past Sunday and so far she can do everything except jump up on the furniture.
I realized over the past week that it isn’t really the obscene amount of money we spent to get her almost back to baseline. Although it does make me crazy because I am a money nazi. It’s the fact of how VSS acted and my vet. My vet should have followed up with them on Thursday. I should have called and asked but like I said I was afraid it was cancer. Is this how VSS would treat their mothers, grandmothers, or their own dog. I highly doubt they would mess around and wait an entire week until their dog is in so much pain she can’t even get up to go to the bathroom. However, I know if it was their dog, someone would have looked at it immediately. Often at work I remind myself to treat each patient as if she were a family member. It makes a huge difference with that mindset.
Now that I am calm, I plan to send VSS a letter and my approach will be more about how much needless suffering and pain my dog endured due to their incompetence rather than the money. Because in the big picture money is money that isn’t going with me when I die. Compassion and lack of it may be accounted for in Heaven.
Mole Moral ~ Only a mole dog gets a bladder infection that makes it impossible for her to walk!
The past ten days have been a living nightmare. As usual I thought I would wake up from surgery and just be my normal self. As if that would ever happen. If I had pain, I didn’t really notice it! I was way too busy being nauseated, dizzy and a raging headache. I even called the doctor office on Thursday and asked for Zofram. Which by the way did NOTHING. So yesterday in one last-ditch effort before I off myself I decided to go to the store and get the over the counter medicine for motion sickness. I always have horrible issues with post op nausea and vomiting. I expected to feel better within an hour. Like that didn’t happen either. So I went to be at ten last night and slept 11 hours and feel 100 times better. I wish I would have thought of this like last week. I swear I will need to be at death’s door before I consider surgery again. There are many days I think I should have just stayed fat and on the couch as this all started from running. If I wouldn’t have run, I wouldn’t have wanted my bladder fixed. Then I wouldn’t have had a hysterectomy and the stupid pathology report on my uterus. My adhesions wouldn’t have moved putting me in the worst pain ever. I wouldn’t have had repeated left-sided inflamed muscle pain. Then I would have never had the giant wart removed off my foot. I wouldn’t have bought into the minimalist running movement and caused plantar fasciitis in both feet requiring surgery a year apart. However, without all the running my resting heart rate wouldn’t be 48, making me a “finely tuned athlete”. My husband calls himself that because his heart rate is the same. However, he is on a beta blocker so it should be. BAHAHAHA
Mole moral~ Is it time to go back to work yet? It’s hard to keep a crackhead down!
Yesterday was quite the day. It all started when I decided today was the day I was getting Allyson’s phone to work. For quite some time she could receive text messages but not send them. Two weeks ago I called tech support and they had to submit a ticket. I then got a text saying issue resolved, yet it wasn’t. So I headed up to my store but my favorite sales guy wasn’t working. The guy waiting on me said he had never seen that (go figure, only a mole) and sent me to olive to the support center. When I arrived I could either make an appointment or wait 2 1/2 hours. I chose to wait because I actually had the phone in my hand and it was charged. I then decided to write a letter to my cousin using email. This was a brilliant idea, except I text one finger (he calls me one finger texter and thinks it’s hilarious.) so by the time I was finished my wrist was on fire. Everyone that walked in was pissed about the wait and copped an attitude. I felt bad for the two guys working although it has to be their calling to deal with this hostile environment every day. A couple of people left and would be texted when it was their turn. They didn’t make it back in time, so I got to go. When they showed up they copped another attitude about their time being valuable. I almost said then you shoulf have made an appointment. It would have been stupid for the tech support guys to wait ten minutes until they showed up. Shortly before I was called up, this guy came in and carried on for ten minutes about how his phone doesn’t work and what would they do for him. The guy patiently repeated over and over three-hour wait and then he could help him. The guy left and the worker said its a tequila night to which I shouted shots for everyone. That made everyone laugh. Allyson’s phone was fixed in 15 minutes. It needed a new SIM card.
My next stop was ugas for coffee I get home and have a Facebook message. I dropped my debit card in the parking lot. I get behind this guy that says he has gas on 6. Right after the lady next to him says she has had on 6. He cops a giant attitude until he is proved wrong. Then tries to say signage is bad. I almost said you are blind and stupid. Then it becomes a math nightmare before he finally leaves. I come home and shut the garage door. I then announce I’m not leaving the house again unless I have a tranquilizer gun. Needless to say, I stayed in
Mole moral ~ Typing this on my phone while waiting for work to start was a stupid idea. My wrist is on fire again. I need to inject myself with a tranquilizer gun especially after the drive in with the snow
Some days I really question why I ever got into shape and started running. It’s been quite the shit show since I started. However had I not started running I wouldn’t have had a hysterectomy and since the pathology could not rule in or out cancer it’s a good thing that is out of me! But still some days I feel like a real honest crackhead.
Today I went to see Dr. Anderson about my left foot. Plantar fasciitis has reared its ugly head in that foot now. It’s been bothering me for a couple of months but I flat-out ignored it, hoping it would just go away. The last week it has gotten to the point that after work I have had to take a 1/2 of a 5 of percocet to keep from killing the people I live with. I refuse to live on daily narcotics. For one I cannot stand the way they make me feel. (I will never get why people abuse them, they are awful but allow me to walk without wanting to either commit suicide or chop my foot off). So Dr. Anderson’s fix today was a cortisone shot in my heel. Holy crap I had forgotten what that felt like. I ended up saying the F word rather drawn out and I almost clawed a hole in the exam table. I am sure I looked quite comical. So now it’s icing, stretching, night splint and hoping in two months when this shot wears off the crap is gone. I told him I hope that happens but I am not holding my breath. So if you all could pray that this will fix this issue that would be awesome. I really really don’t want to have another foot surgery. I really really just want to be able to run again. Is that too much to ask. God gave me this love of running and he keeps taking it away from me. I told him to knock it off but he seems not to listen to me. Biking and swimming are ok but really I prefer running. Is that too much to ask!
Mole moral no one goes to the doctor more than maw squaw! (Brian’s nickname for me!)
So earlier this week I dreamed Allyson and I went back to this park that was located somewhere close to broadway and there was a second cake. I was like we have to go see this except we kept getting on the wrong street and then people started trying to get us. We were on bikes by this time. (Ok so in real life I needed to get up and go to the bathroom). So maybe three days later I get on the official website to see if they have placed another cake which they had not but I learned the cake in front of Bush Stadium is no longer on display. This is a real shame because this is a really cool cake. So I did some research and I learned two things. First of all in a bizarre twist of fate my dream was partially correct. Ameren UE donated a ton of money to the cake fund so they asked for a second cake and were granted one. The employees decorated it and it was indoors and no one but employees could see it. They have since moved it outside until the end of the year. Looks like Emily and I will be running by Ameren again. (Oh yes I am a crazy obsessed fruitcake). Also I thought perhaps the Cardinal cake was removed because of the playoffs. Nope. The artist wanted her name on a plate on the cake and could not come to terms with Stl250 so the Cardinals removed it and put it in storage at an undisclosed location. It’s really a shame that the artist would rather not even have it out on display. I’m just glad I drug Emily all over the place on her break between summer and fall school! Thursday is the day we all we gather and see the two cakes located down here in Arnold. I am pretty excited!
Last year vandals cut the catalytic converter off of Emily’s car to get probably 50 bucks for it and cost 300 to replace. Yesterday she went outside to find her car broken into and the radio stolen.
Was it really necessary to destroy her dash for a 70 Wal-Mart radio? I am assuming it was druggies looking for something to pawn so they could get a quick fix. They jacked up her window on the passenger side as well. With her being four hours away, Brian cannot fix it until she comes home in October. She has no guy friends or friends with dads (in KC) that know anything about cars. Emily and I realized yesterday what a treasure her father and my husband really is. I know he can fix the window and get the dash back together to a reasonable state. Her car is old and she lives in a nice area in KC. She is a mole and just has the worst luck. So now we have to decide replace the radio so a punk can steal it or get the kind where you can remove it and she can bring it in the house every night. (umm annoying). Oh and the best part they left her credit card in the car and didn’t take that. Oh the life with moles!
I may have used this title before but it’s a good one so who cares.
Anyway yesterday I was working on my cake photo book (hyper-focused, not OCD) and went to the http://www.stl250.org website to look up something about the Ameristar Casino cake and lo and behold they have added another cake. So now there are two to grow on. This one is located up north at Express Scripts. I had read somewhere that they may end up putting a total for four to grow on cakes out before the end of the year. Ok this is so out of control. How can I totally focus on the Fox superintendent fiasco when I still have cakes distracting me.
Nothing else exciting happening in the mole household. Brian called me at three today to ask me to bring his golf clubs up to the golf course. For the first time ever, he forgot and left them at home. I am telling you, getting older sucks!