Amber & Medical Miracle

Look how much better my fashingles are!

I mean, my head still hurts, and it stings and throbs like it was on fire and somebody was punching me in the nose simultaneously, but it did not cross the line and is clearly getting drier (eww) and smaller.

Thank you, antiviral drugs.

Amber & Action Shot

Ginger, grooming my hair.

 

Also pictured: my Hello Kitty pjs, sickie me, and bed head.

Amber & Articulate Intelligence

My alarm clock is sick.

It told me so itself.

Add the extra L for extra illness (illlness).

Amber & Sooo Much To Do Today

Woody seems okay, mostly. His breathing may be a little more effortful than usual, or maybe not. He is sleeping alot, but not more than Pickles. And, he is warm on my lap while we watch competitive cooking shows. That's good, right?

Amber & Special Days

What makes today, a wet and rainy New York day, special?

Woody is at home.

We had a pretty rough night, what with all the eating he needed to do because of the appetite stimulants, and a little bit of wheezing and a whole of lot of adjusting to being home again and needing to be near the momma.  But, he is home.  And he is special.

And I am glad to count this special guy amongst my best friends.  I love him so much.

(Sometimes I sleep with my glasses on so I can see better in my dreams.  Plus, I was not sleeping there.  I was just laying down and resting my eyes.)

Amber & It's Pouring

Dear Readers, I am having a hard time.  First, as loyal readers know, Pickles has been struggling with his third UTI this year.

He seemed to be getting better-- he was back to his incessant mewing to play and caught two flies in the bathroom.  But this morning at 5 am, he woke me up with his Litter Box Tour.  He was going from box to box, and several spots in between, scratching and straining, with only tiny, tiny results.  (And some of those results were actually on my shoes-- a stinky reminder that I should have put them away.)  I'm watching him closely today to make sure he is still going.  But, he only has to days left of meds and it seems like he should be better by now, you know?  I worry about my fragile little guy, you know?


 And then, my kitty boyfriend Woody was hospitalized yesterday with pneumonia.  I recognized the huffing and puffing we saw last year when he had the same woes and took him to Schaubhut for a diagnosis.  Schaubhut did an x-ray and recommended hospitalization since he was having so much trouble breathing and should be put on IV meds and in an oxygen tank.  So, that's where he is.  And he sure wasn't happy about it.  (growl)

At least he had a nice time eating salad at the River.  Maybe he has nice kitty memories of that?

So, my two boys, one old and one just a baby, are having a hard time.  Which means, since we all share in the same joyful existence and are made of the same stuff, I am having a hard time.

Also, I worry.  You know?

Amber & Four Updates

1.  Pickles Update

When we visited the little guy last night, he was pretty sad.  He had yanked out his own catheter, so they had us try to get him to eat.  He waited until the vet tech was out of the room and then gobbled down some wet food.  Then, they gave him a sedative and he fell asleep in my arms.

Last night, though, he still wasn't peeing on his own so they put him back on the catheter.  My poor, poor curly fellow.  Please continue to think healthy thoughts for him?

2.  Losses in the War Against the Insects
I have been eaten alive by mosquitos.  See, for example, the back of my neck in the above photo.

3.  Yesterday's Tray

Chips, salsa, leftover steak*, stuffed and cracked olives, assorted crackers, roasted peppers, one mozzerella, and tappenade.

*Steak was grilled on Saturday night.

4.  Grilling
Steak was grilled on Saturday night.  It was delicious, as was the grilled farm share bok choy and accompanying salad.

We did not eat the citronella candle.  But, I wish we had burned it.  See #2 above.

Amber & Wanted: Well Wishes

Can everybody take a moment to think healthy, happy thoughts for poor Pickles?

His health took an unhappy turn and, instead of lounging on the screen porch watching birds and chasing bugs or roaming through the yard eating the omnipresent kitty salad, our curly forever-baby buddy is in the pet hospital, getting a little help unblocking his pee paths.  With good care, a large invoice, and a little luck, the boy should be unblocked and back here at the River with us in a couple of days.

We just want the little guy to feel better.

(Photos of Baby Pickles by James)

I love him.  Please send him your healing thoughts?

Amber & The Storm Before The Calm

1.  Go to Schaubhut to pick up more meds for Pickles.  Check.

2.  Go to Whiskers to get calm drops for travel and gut-pills for barfy Woody.  Check.

3.  Get, but do not eat, a chocolate croissant for Nick's Birthday Breakfast treat.  Check on the getting...

...and we'll see about the eating.

4.  Work.  (In Progress)

5.  Pack up work laptop, stuff at office, including books to read and bike helmet.

6.  Whole Foods for last minute purchases: sunblock, citronella spray, face scrub and shampoo.

7.  Stop by Spoiled Brats to place order to pick up tomorrow on way out of town.  (Rather than lug two cases of food, 35 lbs of litter, and other supplies up the stairs and then back down tomorrow.)

8.  Buy $5 gypsy skirt on the street.

9.  Laundry.

10.  Pack and clean apartment.

11.  Go to River House.

 Breathe.

Amber & My New Nemesis

Illness, I have had it with you.  Although some people have suggested I try not to have new nemeses this year, I am making an exception.  First, you continually pick on some of my dear friends.  Then, you gave me an ailment that no one had ever heard of with the world's silliest name ever.  Then, while I was recuperating from that, you made me get crawly head sensation from nerve problems related to my jaw disorder that persist even after the miracle of the jaw adjustment.

Then, today, you chose the most baby and vulnerable of all targets: Pickles.

Giving my poor pink-nosed, curly little guy another UTI?  I mean, come on.  Although we managed to get to and from the vet without getting clawed or having accidental carrier poops, this is just not fair.  Pickles is already the nervous nelliest of all the cats.  In fact, stress from recent thunder storms and fire crackers (it is still Independence Day in my neighborhood) and contagious me stress (see above referenced other illness infractions) could be the very reason the boy is sickie.

Illness, be warned.  I will not abide.

Your days are numbered.  I am Attacking.  Starting now.

Amber & No Way To Know

Poor Pickles.

He can't do anything without me watching him like a neurotic mother hawk.  He seems to be better-- at least he is using the litter box less frequently and depositing bigger clumps.  But, he also seems to be sleeping alot, but he is a cat and that is what they do.  Is he sleeping more than his siblings?  Maybe.  He doesn't seem to be eating very much, but that could be an upset tummy from the meds or maybe because he had to give up his favorite dry bunny food.  Maybe?

He mews alot.  But he did that before, didn't he?  And he is laying under the bed and behind the desk alot, but maybe that's because it's so hot?  And he is playing with fleece wand, and he does come out for treats.  Is he better than he was over the weekend?  Yes, definitely.  Is he completely well?

This clip from the much-beloved Betty White episode of SNL really sums it up for me.



There's really no way of knowing.

He could just be a homeless guy in a fur coat.

Amber & Kitty News

So, Pickles is sickie.

Well, okay, not quite that sickie.  My curliest, babiest cat has a urinary tract infection.  He was up all last night mewing at each of our many litter boxes, which, thanks to my mothering brain chemicals, made me start awake repeated.  But, today we saw our amazing and always wonderful Dr. Schaubhut who was, as always, amazing and wonderful.  He gave the baby an antibiotic and a homeopathic drop to take.  Since it's his first infection like this, those should help, but the doc suggested the boy would do better without his beloved dry food.  I'm not sure how Pickles will adapt, but I bet without his bowl of dry to visit every ten minutes he might lose some of his "density," if you've ever held him and know what I mean.  His density is at a rest right now.

The boy seems to be doing a little better, but since he is so super shy and doesn't come out from under the bed for strangers, he gets to come with me to the beach this weekend.  I think he'll enjoy it once we get there.  And probably alot more if I remember that he has to go in his carrier butt first.  I had to relearn that lesson this morning.

I've got matching ones of those on my décolletage, belly and--most incredibly ouchily--on the palm of my left hand.  Amazingly those were all done through the shirt I was wearing, which is now just a shreddy mess of rags.  Lesson learned.  Tomorrow will be better for both of us.

Amber & What It Feels Like In My Head Right Now

My headache is back, and I know it's because this guy is inside my skull.



I don't mean that metaphorically, like I've got him stuck in my recall.  I mean I think he is really inside my skull dancing on my squishy brain cells.  Is there an acupuncture point for that?  Dancing Man Dragon?

Amber & Catching Up

While I have been waging an inner battle, armed with mucous and coughs, against my arch allergy nemesis American Elm, so, so very much has been happening in the world.  Let me quickly try to recap.

1.  I got this pretty scarf from my favorite broken body person, Nick.

2.  And my hair color changed.  (See above.  It's darker.  One might even call it espresso.)

3.  Some incredibly smart and adorable marketing professionals over at everybody's favorite investigative news source, Mother Jones, launched a fundraising campaign featuring a Boat-o-meter to measure the campaign's success with the tagline "Sink the ship of fools."

Seriously genius--the kind of stuff we should be doing over at Mother Goose, Inc.  (I pronounce it "boat-oh-meter," but Kevin says "boat-om-etter."  Your choice.)

4.  The above fundraising campaign, to which you should give generously in order to help pay for, among other things, their Circulation Director's cat food (especially if you are getting a free sub from me) prompted me to remark that I wouldn't really be considered the captain of the Boat-o-meter but more of the navigator.  This caused a professional colleague to volunteer to be the ship's barkeep.

Completely amazing likeness, right?  Mobile technology is the absolute best.  I would say some boat stuff here, but really I confuse sailors with pirates all the time.  Arrgh!  That ship is yar!

5.  This caused me to hum the theme to my favorite Boat Show ever.

Did you see those guest stars?  Robert Vaughn and that hot reporter's mom?

6.  Lizzie, the best back seat road trip and tent companion ever, started a blog about her new macrobiotic diet.

Today's post is about allergies and diet and acupressure... which brings us back to the whole reason why I had all this saved up stuff to share with you, dear readers.

Damn you, American Elm.  Damn you and your seed, but thank you for your beauty and grandeur.

Amber & Annual Surprises

Every year, like clockwork, spring arrives.  Blooms, short pants, and reading outside on park benches.  And then, oddly, Woody starts getting wheezy, and then I start feeling cloudy and having a slight runny nose.  And I'm so confused by the weird symptoms.  What could it be?  Why am I so tired?  Why am I even more forgetful and easily distracted than usual?

And, then, every year, I realize it is allergy season.  And then, I restart my relationship with my friend Zyrtek and everything gradually returns to normal.

Why, oh, why am I so surprised every single year?  Is it because I am so excited for the spring that I refuse to associate it with allergies?

Amber & Unrequited Snuggles

Woody was pretty sick last night with asthma.  We had multiple attacks and inhaler dosings, followed by some puking from upset tummy.  This morning, he seemed tired (shocking!  a sleepy cat!) and just wanted to lie in the sun.  Pickles had other plans for him.

Maybe because he was so tired, or still a little under the weather, Woody just tolerated his baby brother's snuggles.

He wasn't thrilled, and the purring was all one-curly-sided.  But, it's progress, right?  They're both awake this time.

Amber & Doctors

My feelings about doctors are multifaceted.  When I am sick, I tend to put too much trust in them, transforming my eager desire to feel better into devotion to every diagnostic word they say.  But, sometimes they are wrong.  And sometimes, they make bad choices and cause me twelve hours of misery.  Doctors' jobs are incredibly hard, but they are just regular people and they are far from perfect.

I often think I missed my calling to be an animal doctor.  I was exceptionally good at chemistry and biology, and I love animals.  And I am super good at keeping them calm while I perform procedures.

But, maybe I would have had difficulty emotionally separating myself from the pets.  Nobody wants a vet who cries more than you when your animal buddy has to be put to sleep.

I do look super good in white, though.

Maybe it's not too late for me to become an holistic practioner for doggies?  You know, giving them herbal baths and massage and stuff?

Amber & Doggies

Remember when I wanted to get an iDog and name it Daisy?

Welcome to Petey, my new iDog 2.0.  Petey is like Daisy, but he has less fur and will match better with Pickles.

(Photo by James)

See? Twins.  Plus, like Daisy, Petey can be carried around in a bag and not smell bad.  And, he can wear awesome outfits, like this Business Time look for when he accompanies me to work.

But, I will have to be patient and wait to get a Petey. Right now, I need to focus on Tiggy who has a vet visit tomorrow for her teary eye and sneezing, which I think means a bad tooth.

(Photo by James)

Everybody wish the girla luck, please.

Amber & You Are What You Eat

RIP, SpaghettiOs Man.

If it wasn't for you, Candice and I might not have survived to adulthood. Or, maybe the will to not starve would have been strong enough, and we would have found something better to eat anyway and been healthier adults?