Friday, May 4, 2012

I milked a cat

So uhhh yeah.  I like cats.

I have two Siamese cats named Dior and Issey. 

Kelly had one cat named Shadow who is a ginormous Maine Coon.

Contrary to popular belief, they do NOT hand out kittens at the hospital after a hysterectomy to send you off with a preview of your barren destined to be a cat lady lifestyle.  I was kind of bummed out about this.

Kelly's birthday was coming up and I was like.... what do I get her because she has everything she wanted.
My bright idea was to go to the animal shelter and get her a kitten so she could have two cats also.

We went and spent HOURS at BARCS and got the last kitten available that day.  So we are up to 4 cats in the house.... kinda.

We overheard the word "euthanize" and decided to look into how to foster a cat family.  Kelly was a little on the fence but when we went to look at the litters available the mama cats name was Kelly... so like fate huh.  Sure we will take not one but FIVE cats home.  So while we were sitting in the classes on adoption and fostering this mama cat and her 3 two day old kittens Kelly and I talked about where we would keep them.  Once we decided it would not be in my room, her room or the guest room, I noticed the lady looking at us.... crap here it comes again, WE ARE NOT A COUPLE but at that moment I could totally understand the confusion.  It's getting kind of funny now so might as well play it up. 

Everything seemed to be fine until the third day when I saw worms coming out of Kelly's (the cat) butt.  Oh hell no.  And she was pooping outside the litter box and it was not regular poop... so we took them back to the vet and they were given dewormer.  The kittens are really cute but the runt is having issues.  We had to take them back to the Vet Wednesday, Friday and Saturday of this week for more worm stuff and shots.  The runt is still tiny and has lost its will or ability to nurse.  Also they gave me medicine to put into Kelly's food to make her have more solid poops and boy did it do the opposite.  She was not having any real issues with diarrhea but Holy Cat spraying poop Batman... she does now.  Way to go, worst diarrhea medicine EVER.

Kelly and I have our moments when we look at each other and laugh at how stupid we are... here is one of those conversations:

Kelly Cat got out of her room and made her way down to
1. our cats litter box, pooped in it, got into a scuffle with Issey (I assume since Issey's collar was next to the litter box) and
2. to my room where Dior and Shadow were located.  I came home and Issey was at the bottom of my stairs meowing very loudly.  This is somewhat normal as she was separated from her mother shortly after birth and never learned the different meows so most of hers come across as the "What Lassie.... is Timmy in the well?  Lets go see"  variety of extreme panic.  I go downstairs finally and see clumps of cat hair, pieces of rug, and Dior sitting in the window sans collar.  Her collar never comes off so this must have been a brawl. This is Kelly and my reenactment of the fight we assume happened when we were at work.

K:  Awww man, is everyone ok?
M: I guess but someone got jacked up
K: I wonder what happened
M: Well Dior has a big scratch on her nose, so she probably fought with Kelly Cat.
K:  Yeah cause Shadow is a punk and probably ran to Dior for help
M:  Yep and Dior was like I'll handle this, step back and watch me work
K:  Yeah but its stupid because Shadow is the only one with claws, punkass
M: Yeah so Dior probably started messing with Kelly Cat and figured out real quick, oh shit she is whooping my ass.  Shadow you better come help me.
K: Shadow was like naw bitch you said you got it.
M: Dior was like that's messed up bitch you just gonna let me get my ass whooped like that, I thought we were cool
K: Shadow said I didn't know she could fight like that, you on your own.

At this point we realized we were basically doing a verbal interpretive dance of a cat fight.  Chalk this up to reason number 54 that I will be a barren spinster cat lady.  Next up is Saturday afternoon puppet shows starring Dior and Issey.  Shadow will be the back up dancer.

We have to bottle feed the runt as Fatty Fatty McFat Fat and Talky Talky McTalk Talk (we were bored) keep pushing it out of the way.  We have tried to get it to nurse and it will start but then stop.  This concerns us but we have come to realize that Wonderunt is not the smartest cat in the room as it will just rub its face on the nipple then leave.  Hey cat, you are doing it wrong. 

So today we felt like Ben Stiller in Meet the Fockers when he was talking about milking a cat.
In all our infinite cat wisdom, we decided "Hey maybe Wonderunt doesn't have enough strength to knead around the nipple so it doesn't get milk, lets help it".  So here are two grown ass women trying to teach a kitten how to knead.  Good thing Kelly the Cat is really laid back and just looked at us like "Are you REALLY trying to milk me?" so I can say that I have milked a cat.  It was all for naught.... Wonderunt still has to be bottle fed and burped. 

I will be finding homes for Fatty Fatty McFat Fat, Talky Talky McTalk Talk, Wonderunt (if it makes it) and Kelly the awesome mom.  So if anyone is looking for a kitten let me know.

As far as the kitten that Kelly got for her birthday, her name is Lola and she duped us into thinking she was cute and innocent because she was coming off of the pain meds from her being fixed when we got her and now is a holy terror which hopefully she will grow out of once introduced to the older cats.

Uhh what's going on here?

I have become crafty.  I was not crafty with my uterus (no I was not bedazzling it or anything) but as soon as I got rid of it I started becoming super crafty lady.

I already made jewelry but now crochet baby blankets (I know one stitch, no fancy crap but it works) and wood painting stuff.  I blame Jenae (my bestie who is pregnant) because I went on etsy to search for lady bug stuff for her and the prices were ridiculous considering how easy it is to make.

My office has bedazzled crap all over it and Kelly and I actually had an argument where she said "Can you consolidate all your crafting crap", I started laughing because if you would have told me 6 months ago that I would even have crafts needing consolidating I would have not believed you.  My mommIE has tried for YEARS to get me to do stuff because I don't have a drawing ability, I do have a way with colors and putting things together in ways that people don't think of.  Even my mommIE was shocked. 

I also learned how to put up shelves.  We have put up shelves in just about every area of our house that needed (or didn't need for that matter) shelving.  The first one was not pretty but now in about 30 minutes I can put up some shelves.  This has caused frequent trips to home depot.  This brings up another issue, Kelly and I are straight.  Very straight.  When we go out in public however, we look like a lesbian couple.  Nothing against lesbians, but I am NOT a lesbian.  Kelly is NOT a lesbian.  We are roommates.  We don't even live on the same floor of the house, much less the same bed.  I realized this stereotype when I see the stares from people wherever we go, and we laugh at it because if we were on the outside peeking in, we do look like a couple, a very tattooed and pierced couple.  A usual visit to home depot consists of
"Hey do we need shelves?"
"yes"
"what color"
"I don't know, what do you think would look best in the spare bedroom?"
"doesn't matter to me, what about the bathroom?"
"ok, we can get both"
"I need to get a check valve for the basement"
"ok let's go over to plumbing"
"let's stop by the kitchen displays just to look"
"cool"

This has done nothing for my dating post-uterus life. 

I am going to be a barren spinster. 

I am a crafty, cat loving, barren spinster.  This is the life I am destined to lead. 

This also is a great place to stop this post and move onto the next ones...

Cats post-uterus.

Week one-five sans uterus

So I left off with me getting discharged from the hospital.

I got home and tried to take it easy as that is what I was supposed to do.  Kelly's room was finished and my new daybeds were delivered my mommIE was there.  good times.  Uh no.  I have an issue with percocet, after a few pills I start to itch and get into this limbo state where I am tired but cant sleep and cant get comfortable.  So I call the on call OB/GYN at Bethesda (which is over an hour away from me).  It is the weekend and they do not have the DEA control number to be able to call in controlled substances over the phone so I had to go to an ER near me.

I went to wonderful (not) John's Hopkins Bayview which is right down the street from me.  I get in rather quickly with all of my discharge paper work, pillow pet, belly binder and pajamas on.  I obviously JUST had surgery and ironically I look pregnant.  I get in to see the ER doctor, hand him my discharge paperwork and explain that after a few pills I am mildly allergic to percocet and it is not doing anything for my pain.  He asks what I have had done, I point to the paperwork I JUST gave him and the conversation went like this:
me: "I just had a hysterectomy three days ago" 
him: "how old are you"
me: "34"
him: "do you have any children?"
me: "No."
him: "don't you think that is a little young to have a hysterectomy if you don't have children?"
me with the WTF did you just say look on my face: "Excuse me? "
him: "34 is a really young age to have a hysterectomy if you don't have children."
me: "Well it's a little late now, and I am sorry I didn't run into you sooner so you could have been my 15th opinion as I'm pretty sure this was an easy decision for me to make.  I'm not here for your personal commentary on a difficult issue concerning ME when you know NOTHING about what I was going through that brought me up to the point of having surgery.  Your comment is in bad taste and not something someone WITHOUT children likes to hear from a person who 1. does not, nor never has had a vagina or uterus and 2. are not a specialist in OB/GYN issues.  I'm not here for your personal opinions I am here for your professional opinion about my pain issues, here is the name of the medication I was told to ask for (Norco - which is vicodin) and the contact information with the on call OB/GYN at Bethesda."
him: "Oh, well I don't know what Norco is but I will give you Tylenol 3"
me: "Thanks for whatever it is that you think you did today, but help was not one of them."

So basically I had no pain relief after the first three days after my surgery.  I was able to tolerate it pretty well. 

I had a great time with my mommIE and my friend Lorrie, both of whom made me get up and walk around to stay limber which I think really helped me heal.

The hardest thing was one day I would have lots of energy and the next day I would have none.  I had "swelly belly" for a long time which would get worse over the course of the day and was kind of my "heads up, you need to rest" trigger. 

Kelly came home and loved her room and we went through every room in the house and decluttered and cleaned.  We donated a metric butt ton of clothes and items to Paul's Place which is an awesome soup kitchen in Baltimore.

I did have some issues with scar tissue building up on the left side of my abdomen which made me go to half days at work for 2 weeks but that is mostly gone now.

I know this post isn't really funny but its what happened.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Settling in sans uterus

So if you have not read my pre-hysterectomy blog please do so as it will give you some insight into my crazy way of thinking and writing.

About me.... my name is Morgan Wright and I am in the Air Force stationed at Fort Meade.  My uterus hated me and had to be destroyed 31 January 2012.  This blog is my sequel to the angry vagina bye-alouge and will follow my exploits post hysterectomy.

As with everything in my adult life the surgery did not go as planned.  I will start from the day before my surgery.

The day before my surgery I was supposed to drink the innocent looking citroma laxative to clean out my system in case they perforated my bowel during surgery.  Oh that sound promising. 

It wasn't bad going down, a little lemony, sour yet sweet with a slight sparkling effect.

Coming out however was another story all together.  HOLY SHIT.  I have never in my life heard the sounds that were emanating from the depths of my bowels before or since.  Forget a two week juice cleanse or colonic... do this stuff and you will be clean as a freaking whistle.

Just when you thought it was over it would start again, it was like a zombie Apocalypse in my intestines.  I finally ran out of whatever the hell was trapped in the approximately 27 feet of intestines and was able to sleep.

My mommIE had come down to help me for the next week and we woke up at butt crack of dawn and headed to Bethesda.  I was supposed to be the second person in, so about 0730.  I got there and of course couldn't eat or drink so I could feel myself start to dehydrate.  Some genius decided NOT to put my IV in when I first got there because that would have made sense, no we are going to wait until 7 hours AFTER I showed up at the hospital (so at least 14 hours since anything to eat or drink = veins shriveled up like the Nile on a hot day) so that was fun time #3.
Fun time #1 was hearing.... sorry but we have to push your surgery back because there was a water main break and there is no water to sterilize the tools.... of course!  Now running through my head was my last hospital stay almost a year previously for MRSA. 
Fun time #2 was hearing... sorry but we have to push your surgery back because the person ahead of you had to use the special tool we had set out for you but it was an emergency and we had to go open them back up so we are looking for another tool and operating room to do your surgery.

ahhhhh crap.  But the good news is, I DID have my surgery that day and it went fine (did not wake up with a penis) ... if by fine you mean waking up with those damn air poppers on your legs and a big air pillow in the bed that kept inflating and deflating at DIFFERENT intervals so as soon as you would fall asleep it would sound like a game of angry birds... also my mommIE stayed in the room with me on what had to be the most uncomfortable bed/chaise/chair thing in the world without her CPAP machine.  Great, I have angry birds in my bed and an angry semi truck rumbling in the corner.  Top that off with the fact that they kinked up the catheter line so I woke up in horrible pain and felt like I was going to explode.

They unkinked the line and had to drain the bag as a full bladder I did have!... Then, bless his heart, the tech put the bag too high for the line to drain into.  So a mere few hours later the same thing happened.  Come on dude.... you are killing me here. 

They told me I had to pee, fart, eat, walk and drink in order to get out of there.  I peed, I farted and got that party started. I was ready to go. 

I looked like a fool in my pajamas and holding a pillow pet in front of me but I made it home with a belly binder (think girdle) and percocet.

stay tuned for more.