Monday, October 18, 2010

I am Sparta

I spent the last two days in the hospital and three doctors and two nurses told me that I "look really good for someone with an abscess".
That, apparently, is "looking really good". Mostly, I was weepy and woozy. I did all my eatin' through a tube in my arm and that, my friends, was not nearly as much fun as other kinds of eating. The first solid food I had in two days was an apple and that crisp, crunchy goodness nearly blew my drugged-out little mind.
The Guy was working at night so ended up spending the last two days without sleeping at all so that he could take care of me.


He did some hand-holding, brought some books and fresh socks, took care of the puppy, and basically proved himself (again) an all-around awesome boyfriend. The hairy growth that seems to be sprouting from his neck? That was me. I was hiding my face because by that point I'd gone about twenty hours without swallowing anything at all and despite the lack of liquid in my body, I'd squeezed surprising amounts of water out of my eyeballs. They were swollen up like basketballs. I'm not sure what that says about me - I was in pain, woozy from dehydration and scared of what was going on but I still had to take a photo and not look hideous - but I'm sure it says something. Probably something not very flattering, in which case I will assume it's jealous and pay no attention.
I've been given jugs and jugs of antibiotics and some painkillers (all the medications are liquid, in case I'm unable to swallow again. Isn't that thoughtful?) and some Dire Warnings about what happens if I don't take the meds on time and sent on my (droopy) way.
I'm home again, my dog is frantic with joy, my cat is outwardly indifferent but inwardly relieved and my plant seems not to have noticed. I'm going to drag myself into bed and stay there for at least twelve hours, or until the puppy needs to pee, whichever comes first.

*I should probably mention that I am currently all drugged up and if this entry makes no sense, I blame the codeine.

Monday, October 11, 2010

I've got a dog and he has Special Needs. Namely, food, water, and constant attention. It turns out that my adorable "non-needy, quiet, well-behaved" puppy has Separation Anxiety (fancy talk for He Freaks Out And Turns Into A Maniac Whenever He's Left Alone) and worms. The worms I don't mind. A couple of visits to the vet, a couple of pills forced down his throat, we're all set. The Separation Anxiety? That's a whole other can worms (See what I did there? HA!). Since he's relatively quiet when I'm around, I still don't know how obnoxious he really is when I'm at work but my neighbors have been quick to inform me: He's a whining, barking, yelping nightmare, producing brain-bending noises for HOURS at a time. I went outside to type this entry and as the door shut behind me, the yelping started. It's a sort of high-pitched squeak right now, like the world's longest fingernail scratching the world's biggest chalkboard.
The dog is adorable, and sweet, and needs to be trained. I'm not gonna give up on the beast but I've got to figure out how to get him to shut up. If anyone's got any tips, lemme have 'em.

The Doc

How cute is that guy? How deceptively well-mannered of appearance.