I hate waiting for things..
I even hate waiting for things I don't want/like/want to do.
I've been putting off preparing for the upcoming semester; I need books, folders, notebooks, etc. and I should go get them, since I can charge them to my student account, and my VA vocational rehabilitation benefits cover the cost. But no, I haven't done it. I have about 2 weeks more to go.
Why haven't I done it, if I so loathe waiting for things?
I also loathe making trips with only one purpose. It's a huge waste of my time and gas to drive 45 minutes JUST to pick up my books for school. But I'm broke, and don't need much right now..
So I've figured out a solution!
I have a bunch of guppies that I no longer want to keep in my aquariums. There are a number of fish stores in the area. I'm going to offer them, for store trade for blackworms or something, to one of the shops.
Normally I wouldn't be trying to get rid of a pet... it's not a thing I like to do -the birds were an exception, because they aggravated my condition, and I did not choose to have them in the first place; I inherited them because I was the only person both willing and able to care for them- but in this case, it's either I get rid of them now, or wait until there are so many of them that they die off.
Because that's what guppies do.. they breed. a lot. Unlike mammals, they can't really be sterilized (nor, seriously, would I bother..) and I have so many plants in my tank that the babies don't get eaten at nearly the rate necessary to maintain population levels. I had 3 fish for a long time, I now have 2 dozen, all born after January of this year. I want to replace them with Endlers, which is another type of guppy (more or less), and so they breed just as quickly, however unlike my common guppies, endlers are actually worth selling... incredibly difficult to come across pure genetic stock (with paperwork) because they so easily breed with other guppies, but worth the investment. It beats giving away babies every few months or hoping they get eaten
So I want to multi-task my trip. And I don't feel like catching a buttload of tiny guppy fry (they are about 1-2 months old presently, just barely big enough for reliable sexing). And I don't really feel like going to get my textbooks.
This is what procrastination looks like.. It's not just not doing things, it's finding really "legitimate" reasons for not doing things, and sticking with those rationalizations as though life itself depended upon it.
But really, why would I want to be productive in my last 2 weeks of freedom for the summer?
After all, I have 4 cats to take to the vet, 6 months worth of canned cat food to buy, cat trees and shelves to build and install, an aquarium to design and build, gardening to do, rooms to clean, etc etc etc etc etc. The list never ends; I could get a lot done, if only I wanted to.
So what's wrong with putting it off a bit more? I'm already in a holding pattern for future events. Might as well extend that to the other tasks needing completion. Then I can get everything done at once, and feel exceptionally accomplished.
After all, I did just do my laundry. That's something.
Showing posts with label responsibility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label responsibility. Show all posts
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Thursday, July 30, 2015
The forlorn meowing breaks my heart!
It's almost 5 AM. I went to sleep around 12:30. I was woken by one of my cats licking a plastic bag. I don't know why he does this, but it drives me up the wall. I moved what he was licking, so he found something else. It sounds terribly cute, and it is, until it's 4 AM.
I'm trying to figure if this behavior is related to hunger or a food desire, so I offered him some wet food (he's very very picky about wet food, and won't eat any more than 10 minutes old). The opening of the can, of course, woke my other cats.
So here I am, mixing food for one cat, while another watches me suspiciously (this is not at all our routine) and then the meowing on the other side of the door starts up. The new boys were up as well.
For the last few days, Mickey has been reasonably comfortable with hand and arm contact, at least with me (my partner isn't spending enough time with them to form a good bond, so his progress will be slower) but Gizmo hasn't wanted anything to do with contact, only lots of kitty kisses (slowly blinked eyes). I haven't been pushing his comfort level too much, though I do offer him appendages for sniffing occasionally, lots of toys and food, and talk to him a lot.
Tonight, Gizmo let me love all over him. He was just as thrilled for contact as Mickey had been when he finally opened up, and they were both super affectionate, At the same time. That's exactly what I've been missing in my established cat dynamic; cats that get along well enough that I can pet them at the same time.
They also both really want to get out of the room and explore the rest of the house. The idea was to wait until both of my existing cats had gone in the room a few times, at least, and that's still the plan, but my cats aren't terribly interested in going in..
Scooter went in this morning, and just sort of walked around pretending there weren't other cats in the room, and that he owned the place. The whole time he was there, mickey had his nose up Scooter's butt, and followed him around relentlessly. Scooter, for his part, took it quite well, the whole thing was very civil, and when he started hanging around the door, I opened it for him, and he left.
Exactly the intro I was hoping for!
Gin, on the other hand, is offended that I'm petting another kitty, even though I am by no means ignoring her in the process. Gin had always been an odd duck; I got her from the shelter as a kitten, and she came home to an apartment full of 6 month old black lab and an asshole human I've since gotten rid of. She didn't get the positive start in life I wish I could have given her.
She's never been much of one for other cats, though I think this has more to do with them not matching her personality well enough to have a friend out of it. She's not actually aggressive and she hasn't claimed a person as territory as one of my other cats did (Omocha, unfortunately, needed to be re-homed; she was absolutely a one-cat-house cat, and we just couldn't give her that, so I found her a family that could). Indeed, it seems as though Gin just doesn't LIKE who we picked as her friend.
I'm hoping that Mickey and Gizmo will solve this problem, by having different enough personalities not just from each other, but from my established cats, to fill any personality gap we may have. Cats have activities that they like to share with friends, just like we humans do, and similar to humans, it's tough to find another cat who likes all the same things. Just like humans, the more friends are available, the more likely they will have overlapping interests.
So far, everything is looking good, it's just a matter of time.
I'm trying to figure if this behavior is related to hunger or a food desire, so I offered him some wet food (he's very very picky about wet food, and won't eat any more than 10 minutes old). The opening of the can, of course, woke my other cats.
So here I am, mixing food for one cat, while another watches me suspiciously (this is not at all our routine) and then the meowing on the other side of the door starts up. The new boys were up as well.
For the last few days, Mickey has been reasonably comfortable with hand and arm contact, at least with me (my partner isn't spending enough time with them to form a good bond, so his progress will be slower) but Gizmo hasn't wanted anything to do with contact, only lots of kitty kisses (slowly blinked eyes). I haven't been pushing his comfort level too much, though I do offer him appendages for sniffing occasionally, lots of toys and food, and talk to him a lot.
Tonight, Gizmo let me love all over him. He was just as thrilled for contact as Mickey had been when he finally opened up, and they were both super affectionate, At the same time. That's exactly what I've been missing in my established cat dynamic; cats that get along well enough that I can pet them at the same time.
They also both really want to get out of the room and explore the rest of the house. The idea was to wait until both of my existing cats had gone in the room a few times, at least, and that's still the plan, but my cats aren't terribly interested in going in..
Scooter went in this morning, and just sort of walked around pretending there weren't other cats in the room, and that he owned the place. The whole time he was there, mickey had his nose up Scooter's butt, and followed him around relentlessly. Scooter, for his part, took it quite well, the whole thing was very civil, and when he started hanging around the door, I opened it for him, and he left.
Exactly the intro I was hoping for!
Gin, on the other hand, is offended that I'm petting another kitty, even though I am by no means ignoring her in the process. Gin had always been an odd duck; I got her from the shelter as a kitten, and she came home to an apartment full of 6 month old black lab and an asshole human I've since gotten rid of. She didn't get the positive start in life I wish I could have given her.
She's never been much of one for other cats, though I think this has more to do with them not matching her personality well enough to have a friend out of it. She's not actually aggressive and she hasn't claimed a person as territory as one of my other cats did (Omocha, unfortunately, needed to be re-homed; she was absolutely a one-cat-house cat, and we just couldn't give her that, so I found her a family that could). Indeed, it seems as though Gin just doesn't LIKE who we picked as her friend.
I'm hoping that Mickey and Gizmo will solve this problem, by having different enough personalities not just from each other, but from my established cats, to fill any personality gap we may have. Cats have activities that they like to share with friends, just like we humans do, and similar to humans, it's tough to find another cat who likes all the same things. Just like humans, the more friends are available, the more likely they will have overlapping interests.
So far, everything is looking good, it's just a matter of time.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
It's not even the incisions...
So I had the surgery yesterday, and my babymaker no longer functions as-intended. Win.
It was surprisingly low-key, considering my anxiety.
I did find out I've lost even more weight, though.. I'm down to 108# from my usually-consistent 123#, a situation which I find quite upsetting; eating more means more pain due to my ongoing tummy problems, and not eating more means I could easily become even less healthy.. I'll have to talk to my primary care doctor about it when I call regarding depo, especially since I think I may have pinned down the cause. On the plus side, my distress over actually losing weight seems to have convinced my partner that, no, despite my jokes about "working off that meal", I'm not actually interested in losing weight, just maintaining the same size I've been since middle school (which I do usually without conscious thought. I don't go out of my way to stay the same size; I don't weigh myself or measure or anything, and most of my waistbands are elastic so I have no reference other than visual).
Anyway..
My attending nurse was also childless and had a hysterectomy, and totally understood when I said I was only getting my tubes tied because they wouldn't let me have my uterus removed. She had hers done by laproscope, just like mine, so although it was a bigger surgery, she knew what I could expect, more or less.
She was super good about my intense sarcasm, and was surprised by my unwavering bluntness (it's just who I am, and I rather like it, because nobody ever has to guess about me, and get it wrong).
She commented positively on my lack of moving even slightly, despite watching what she was doing, when she attempted the IV in my right hand, and wrist, and when I told her she was better off, despite appearances to the contrary, using my left, I didn't flinch for that, either, and she got it on the first go. My viens are strange; on the right, they are very visible and look perfect for tapping, but can almost never be hit.. On my left, they look less amazing, and are harder to see, but can be hit on the first go just about every single time (as in.. I've yet to have even folks in training miss on that side)
Then I explained that I was keeping track of my age with piercings, and had gotten a bunch through the years that I didn't keep. It all made sense. She was super apologetic about missing twice, and my response was merely "eh, I figured it would happen, but it doesn't bother me much at all".
My partner sat with me while we waited, and we watched one of the new spiderman movies from start to finish, so that was a really good way of keeping my mind off what was to come, but honestly, the IV was the worst bit of pre-surgery.
One of the other nurses gave me a hard time about my dermal anchors, even with the tops removed, and finally I was like "well, for what it's worth, I regret them, and I would take them out if that didn't require a surgery all on it's own.." She then demanded to know how they got them in, and I told her the rather unpleasant process of making 3 piercings to make a pocket, and slipping the jewelry in, letting the skin grow through the back of the anchor. I told her how long ago I got them, and that they had finally stopped, for the most part, giving me major problems, and she cooled down a bit and explained how cauterizing can lead to burns, especially with a surgery so close to them. I told her I appreciated the info, and that it was a risk I simply had to be willing to take, at this point. That seemed to be enough. There's not much I can do about something I did 5 years ago, short of, as mentioned, surgery.. the anchors need to be cut out, and the process is much worse than implanting them (that process, by the by... sucks..)
They wheeled me into the OR, and I was still awake so I was asking all sorts of questions about the equipment. They showed me a few devices that they were going to use on me, and I told them I liked that they were willing to share and explain. They responded that it's not all that often someone wants to know, beforehand, what's going on for surgery. They have this cool reflex tester deal that they put on your hand to send shocks through to make sure everything is working. They wouldn't hook it up while I was awake, which is a shame, because now I'm super curious how it feels.
Nobody got my joke about the machine that goes "BING!" from Monty Python, which was disappointing, but I asked if they were going to be rocking out to any awesome jams, and the guy in charge of the OR laughed and said "not in my OR", to which the nurses laughed and said "but as soon as he leaves the room!!!"
My mom was an RN, and worked in nearly ever field an RN can; OR, ER, prenatal, maternity, pre-op, assisted living, nursing home, the lot. She used to tell me about how they worked, and how they rocked out to music while the patient was under. She also used to comment about how much she hated the rude people, so I did my best to be entirely accommodating, even a bit helpful.
I don't really recall them injecting the anesthetic, but I recall asking what specific drug it was (as I did with everything else they put in it, because I'm curious) and we got to skip right over that boring counting stuff, because they had the perfect stuff (medical equipment and knowledge) to keep me happy and non-stressed.
I woke up in agony. They gave me a few shots of painkillers, but it didn't come close to going away.. it got better, for sure, but nothing near relief.
It was very unpleasant. The gasses they used to blow up my abdomen lingered like crazy. I still have some huge major bubbles and a ton of subsurface tiny bubbles, and they still hurt. Because of the added pressure in strange places, my back and shoulders also hurt.
When the pain subsided somewhat, they wheeled me into my recovery room where my partner was waiting for me. Then there was a boring bit while I just laid there and made him give me water every few minutes, between conversation and a lot of complaining.
While I was in recovery, my surgeon came by to check on me, let me know that the surgery went well, and said he thought I might be interested to see my clips, since I'm a strange patient. Turns out, he made me a nice, glossy, full-color copy of the pictures, and presented them to me with a flourish. I, being the strange duck that I am, was thrilled. I asked all about what I was seeing, and now I have a picture of each ovary, my Fallopian tubes, and both clips. You can't ask for more! I might frame them. Proof that I'm sterile.
They wanted me to stick around until I could use the bathroom (they apparently used a catheter), and I wanted to leave because we still had a 2.5 hour drive home, so I managed well before I needed or wanted to go, and that, too, was highly unpleasant.
The drive home sort of sucked, although I think I passed out for an hour or so, because when we got to what I thought was Fond Du Lac, we were actually in Oshkosh (30-45 min difference). Bumpy roads were painful, and I curled up in the back seat for a while trying to relocate some of the gas bubbles (something I'm very accustomed to doing with intestinal gas).
The only bad thing, so far, other than the pain.. was the bleeding. They used some sort of liquid bandage sealant stuff rather than bandages, but one of the incisions didn't close up completely, so in the car, it started oozing blood. Unpleasant. We had to stop and look for paper towel, but there wasn't any at the rest stop, so I fished an old but clean shirt out of my trunk and used that. Not ideal, but workable.
The gas pain has been bothering me since I woke up from surgery, but I found that increasing blood flow increases absorption rate of CO2 gas (the same way as muscle fatigue) so I did some exercises that didn't hurt, but would increase my heart rate slightly, as well as increase the blood flow to abdominal muscles. It seemed to help with some of it, but there's enough left that I think it will be another day or two yet, at least. I'm trying not to limit my normal activities too much, since couch-potato-ing decreases blood flow and thus increases recovery time.
I'm also trying to find a cat to sit on my lap and purr, but none of them seem to want to be that close to my blood. (I'm not forcing the matter, of course, but my invitations have been ignored thusfar)
Why would I want a cat so close? Simply, the cat's purr is special; it vibrates at a frequency that can speed up healing, which is why cats seem to survive things you'd think would kill them. The frequencies (~25 htz for the base frequency and ~50 for the first harmonic frequency) have been shown in lab settings to promote healing of bones, reduce inflammation and swelling, and reduce pain, to say nothing of the illness rates in cats being significantly lower than would be expected. It works so well that devices are being made based on the cat purr frequencies for healing bones that are having problems doing so naturally (such as old or compromised patients)
All told, I'm still glad I did it. This is a reasonably small price to pay for peace of mind. I now know, almost for certain, that I will never need to have an abortion.
And such excellent timing, too; if my partner wants to be around babies, especially now that he knows for sure we aren't having any, his niece just found out she was about 5 weeks pregnant, so that need, if it becomes a need, has an outlet. I even told him he's welcome to babysit if he wants to, which was met by the most vigorous head shake of no I've ever seen from him. It was magical.
Sorry for rambling; I'm a bit drugged up for this post. They offered me vicodin and codine, and I declined both because they never work for me (I literally cannot tell when I've taken them or haven't, and I have some skill in those matters), so they sent me home with 600MG ibuprofin and 5mg oxy/35mg acetaminophen. Today is an oxy day.
Perhaps I'll have something more to write when I'm a bit more sober. Perhaps I'll sleep all day. :p
It was surprisingly low-key, considering my anxiety.
I did find out I've lost even more weight, though.. I'm down to 108# from my usually-consistent 123#, a situation which I find quite upsetting; eating more means more pain due to my ongoing tummy problems, and not eating more means I could easily become even less healthy.. I'll have to talk to my primary care doctor about it when I call regarding depo, especially since I think I may have pinned down the cause. On the plus side, my distress over actually losing weight seems to have convinced my partner that, no, despite my jokes about "working off that meal", I'm not actually interested in losing weight, just maintaining the same size I've been since middle school (which I do usually without conscious thought. I don't go out of my way to stay the same size; I don't weigh myself or measure or anything, and most of my waistbands are elastic so I have no reference other than visual).
Anyway..
My attending nurse was also childless and had a hysterectomy, and totally understood when I said I was only getting my tubes tied because they wouldn't let me have my uterus removed. She had hers done by laproscope, just like mine, so although it was a bigger surgery, she knew what I could expect, more or less.
She was super good about my intense sarcasm, and was surprised by my unwavering bluntness (it's just who I am, and I rather like it, because nobody ever has to guess about me, and get it wrong).
She commented positively on my lack of moving even slightly, despite watching what she was doing, when she attempted the IV in my right hand, and wrist, and when I told her she was better off, despite appearances to the contrary, using my left, I didn't flinch for that, either, and she got it on the first go. My viens are strange; on the right, they are very visible and look perfect for tapping, but can almost never be hit.. On my left, they look less amazing, and are harder to see, but can be hit on the first go just about every single time (as in.. I've yet to have even folks in training miss on that side)
Then I explained that I was keeping track of my age with piercings, and had gotten a bunch through the years that I didn't keep. It all made sense. She was super apologetic about missing twice, and my response was merely "eh, I figured it would happen, but it doesn't bother me much at all".
My partner sat with me while we waited, and we watched one of the new spiderman movies from start to finish, so that was a really good way of keeping my mind off what was to come, but honestly, the IV was the worst bit of pre-surgery.
One of the other nurses gave me a hard time about my dermal anchors, even with the tops removed, and finally I was like "well, for what it's worth, I regret them, and I would take them out if that didn't require a surgery all on it's own.." She then demanded to know how they got them in, and I told her the rather unpleasant process of making 3 piercings to make a pocket, and slipping the jewelry in, letting the skin grow through the back of the anchor. I told her how long ago I got them, and that they had finally stopped, for the most part, giving me major problems, and she cooled down a bit and explained how cauterizing can lead to burns, especially with a surgery so close to them. I told her I appreciated the info, and that it was a risk I simply had to be willing to take, at this point. That seemed to be enough. There's not much I can do about something I did 5 years ago, short of, as mentioned, surgery.. the anchors need to be cut out, and the process is much worse than implanting them (that process, by the by... sucks..)
They wheeled me into the OR, and I was still awake so I was asking all sorts of questions about the equipment. They showed me a few devices that they were going to use on me, and I told them I liked that they were willing to share and explain. They responded that it's not all that often someone wants to know, beforehand, what's going on for surgery. They have this cool reflex tester deal that they put on your hand to send shocks through to make sure everything is working. They wouldn't hook it up while I was awake, which is a shame, because now I'm super curious how it feels.
Nobody got my joke about the machine that goes "BING!" from Monty Python, which was disappointing, but I asked if they were going to be rocking out to any awesome jams, and the guy in charge of the OR laughed and said "not in my OR", to which the nurses laughed and said "but as soon as he leaves the room!!!"
My mom was an RN, and worked in nearly ever field an RN can; OR, ER, prenatal, maternity, pre-op, assisted living, nursing home, the lot. She used to tell me about how they worked, and how they rocked out to music while the patient was under. She also used to comment about how much she hated the rude people, so I did my best to be entirely accommodating, even a bit helpful.
I don't really recall them injecting the anesthetic, but I recall asking what specific drug it was (as I did with everything else they put in it, because I'm curious) and we got to skip right over that boring counting stuff, because they had the perfect stuff (medical equipment and knowledge) to keep me happy and non-stressed.
I woke up in agony. They gave me a few shots of painkillers, but it didn't come close to going away.. it got better, for sure, but nothing near relief.
It was very unpleasant. The gasses they used to blow up my abdomen lingered like crazy. I still have some huge major bubbles and a ton of subsurface tiny bubbles, and they still hurt. Because of the added pressure in strange places, my back and shoulders also hurt.
When the pain subsided somewhat, they wheeled me into my recovery room where my partner was waiting for me. Then there was a boring bit while I just laid there and made him give me water every few minutes, between conversation and a lot of complaining.
While I was in recovery, my surgeon came by to check on me, let me know that the surgery went well, and said he thought I might be interested to see my clips, since I'm a strange patient. Turns out, he made me a nice, glossy, full-color copy of the pictures, and presented them to me with a flourish. I, being the strange duck that I am, was thrilled. I asked all about what I was seeing, and now I have a picture of each ovary, my Fallopian tubes, and both clips. You can't ask for more! I might frame them. Proof that I'm sterile.
They wanted me to stick around until I could use the bathroom (they apparently used a catheter), and I wanted to leave because we still had a 2.5 hour drive home, so I managed well before I needed or wanted to go, and that, too, was highly unpleasant.
The drive home sort of sucked, although I think I passed out for an hour or so, because when we got to what I thought was Fond Du Lac, we were actually in Oshkosh (30-45 min difference). Bumpy roads were painful, and I curled up in the back seat for a while trying to relocate some of the gas bubbles (something I'm very accustomed to doing with intestinal gas).
The only bad thing, so far, other than the pain.. was the bleeding. They used some sort of liquid bandage sealant stuff rather than bandages, but one of the incisions didn't close up completely, so in the car, it started oozing blood. Unpleasant. We had to stop and look for paper towel, but there wasn't any at the rest stop, so I fished an old but clean shirt out of my trunk and used that. Not ideal, but workable.
The gas pain has been bothering me since I woke up from surgery, but I found that increasing blood flow increases absorption rate of CO2 gas (the same way as muscle fatigue) so I did some exercises that didn't hurt, but would increase my heart rate slightly, as well as increase the blood flow to abdominal muscles. It seemed to help with some of it, but there's enough left that I think it will be another day or two yet, at least. I'm trying not to limit my normal activities too much, since couch-potato-ing decreases blood flow and thus increases recovery time.
I'm also trying to find a cat to sit on my lap and purr, but none of them seem to want to be that close to my blood. (I'm not forcing the matter, of course, but my invitations have been ignored thusfar)
Why would I want a cat so close? Simply, the cat's purr is special; it vibrates at a frequency that can speed up healing, which is why cats seem to survive things you'd think would kill them. The frequencies (~25 htz for the base frequency and ~50 for the first harmonic frequency) have been shown in lab settings to promote healing of bones, reduce inflammation and swelling, and reduce pain, to say nothing of the illness rates in cats being significantly lower than would be expected. It works so well that devices are being made based on the cat purr frequencies for healing bones that are having problems doing so naturally (such as old or compromised patients)
All told, I'm still glad I did it. This is a reasonably small price to pay for peace of mind. I now know, almost for certain, that I will never need to have an abortion.
And such excellent timing, too; if my partner wants to be around babies, especially now that he knows for sure we aren't having any, his niece just found out she was about 5 weeks pregnant, so that need, if it becomes a need, has an outlet. I even told him he's welcome to babysit if he wants to, which was met by the most vigorous head shake of no I've ever seen from him. It was magical.
Sorry for rambling; I'm a bit drugged up for this post. They offered me vicodin and codine, and I declined both because they never work for me (I literally cannot tell when I've taken them or haven't, and I have some skill in those matters), so they sent me home with 600MG ibuprofin and 5mg oxy/35mg acetaminophen. Today is an oxy day.
Perhaps I'll have something more to write when I'm a bit more sober. Perhaps I'll sleep all day. :p
Monday, July 27, 2015
Pre-surgery jitters
Well, tomorrow I have my surgery..
I'm, shockingly, not looking forward to it, although I am looking forward to the outcome.
I'm supposed to give up food and drink at midnight tonight, but I've given up food already, as of 11 PM yesterday. Why? Simply, although the "do not eat or drink" thing is for anesthesia, so you don't throw up while under, my digestive system doesn't work that happily.
I gave up food early do I'm not already filled with gasses before they even start. It's enough that they will be inflating my abdomen with CO2, there's no need for me to add my own ~_^
Having a calm, relaxed tummy for this is a high priority; I'm going to feel pookey enough afterwards without the gut-wrenching agony of bloating. But it's more than that... I want my tummy to quickly return to normal, because I have to remove the tops of my dermal anchors.. I've had nothing but problems with those fuckers, and honestly, I'm concerned that I'll have one sink and get lost if my tummy spends too much time bloated, putting pressure on the implanted bit. At the very least, I expect I will have a good 2-4 weeks of irritation healing on at least a couple of my dermals.. Most likely the ones at the bottom..
It's a problem I already have with the bloating thing, and not one I wish to make worse.
As it is I plan to draw circles around the piercings so my surgeon knows exactly where to avoid, if at all possible; most medical personnel aren't terribly familiar with implanted piercings, and they all want to know "can you take them out?" nooooo... pretty sure that's why they are called implants..
The rest of the surgery stuff.. meh.. I have transportation arranged, and I'm not too terribly concerned with pain. I do plan to ask for something better than Vicodin or codine, since neither of those do anything whatever to my system.. They seriously might as well be placebo for all the good they do... Placebos might actually work better, because you don't expect them to do anything, so any result is a pleasant surprise!
I guess it's good that my biggest concern for this surgery.... is whether or not it will fuck up my very touchy piercings.
That's a minor thing, overall.
And I get to come home to the two most adorable red point Siamese boys, so that certainly helps!
I'm, shockingly, not looking forward to it, although I am looking forward to the outcome.
I'm supposed to give up food and drink at midnight tonight, but I've given up food already, as of 11 PM yesterday. Why? Simply, although the "do not eat or drink" thing is for anesthesia, so you don't throw up while under, my digestive system doesn't work that happily.
I gave up food early do I'm not already filled with gasses before they even start. It's enough that they will be inflating my abdomen with CO2, there's no need for me to add my own ~_^
Having a calm, relaxed tummy for this is a high priority; I'm going to feel pookey enough afterwards without the gut-wrenching agony of bloating. But it's more than that... I want my tummy to quickly return to normal, because I have to remove the tops of my dermal anchors.. I've had nothing but problems with those fuckers, and honestly, I'm concerned that I'll have one sink and get lost if my tummy spends too much time bloated, putting pressure on the implanted bit. At the very least, I expect I will have a good 2-4 weeks of irritation healing on at least a couple of my dermals.. Most likely the ones at the bottom..
It's a problem I already have with the bloating thing, and not one I wish to make worse.
As it is I plan to draw circles around the piercings so my surgeon knows exactly where to avoid, if at all possible; most medical personnel aren't terribly familiar with implanted piercings, and they all want to know "can you take them out?" nooooo... pretty sure that's why they are called implants..
The rest of the surgery stuff.. meh.. I have transportation arranged, and I'm not too terribly concerned with pain. I do plan to ask for something better than Vicodin or codine, since neither of those do anything whatever to my system.. They seriously might as well be placebo for all the good they do... Placebos might actually work better, because you don't expect them to do anything, so any result is a pleasant surprise!
I guess it's good that my biggest concern for this surgery.... is whether or not it will fuck up my very touchy piercings.
That's a minor thing, overall.
And I get to come home to the two most adorable red point Siamese boys, so that certainly helps!
Sunday, July 26, 2015
We have new kitties!
It was sort of a happy accident.
We took the birds to the rescue place; they will be much better off, as will I. On the way home, we stopped by the shelter to drop off the application, the one needed to set up a visit with fostered pets. Turns out, the cats we were looking for were no longer in foster, so we got to sit with them in kitty city.
Fortunately, we know that kitty city is better named stress city; 7-10 adult cats thrown together on a rotating basis. Our boys weren't at their best. Far from it. 5 minutes into our visit, the shelter called me, and were thrilled to find out that, indeed, they were calling me from 10 feet away. The adoption was approved (likely because I had adopted a cat from them previously) and within half an hour, we were on our way home with 2 freshly microchipped cream colorpoint boys.
We were not ready.
Despite spending well over a week intending to bring them home, we thought, certainly, the shelter would take longer than a day, since a day is standard procedure. We thought they were in foster care, which would have meant scheduling a time to meet them, so up to another week.
Nope. 5 minutes after stopping at the humane society to drop off paperwork, I'd been approved, and asked if I wanted to take them home today, or pick them up later.
Turns out, they had been at the shelter for almost 7 months after being surrendered because their family "didn't have time for them". Nobody had time for them.
We have time for them. I'm even more sure of my choice knowing what they came from and went through,
They have been with us for a day and a half now. They are eating, although it's not agreeing with them the greatest just yet. At least one of them is playing, they are exploring, they aren't running into hiding when we knock to open the door. They are using the boxes properly, and haven't destroyed anything yet. I even got a chance to love on the bolder of the two for a while this morning.
It's slower going than any of my previous cats, but these two lost a lot, and it's going to take them a while to open up again. And that's OK.
We'll give them everything they could possibly want or need, and see what happens.
I'm sure it will be something good.
We took the birds to the rescue place; they will be much better off, as will I. On the way home, we stopped by the shelter to drop off the application, the one needed to set up a visit with fostered pets. Turns out, the cats we were looking for were no longer in foster, so we got to sit with them in kitty city.
Fortunately, we know that kitty city is better named stress city; 7-10 adult cats thrown together on a rotating basis. Our boys weren't at their best. Far from it. 5 minutes into our visit, the shelter called me, and were thrilled to find out that, indeed, they were calling me from 10 feet away. The adoption was approved (likely because I had adopted a cat from them previously) and within half an hour, we were on our way home with 2 freshly microchipped cream colorpoint boys.
We were not ready.
Despite spending well over a week intending to bring them home, we thought, certainly, the shelter would take longer than a day, since a day is standard procedure. We thought they were in foster care, which would have meant scheduling a time to meet them, so up to another week.
Nope. 5 minutes after stopping at the humane society to drop off paperwork, I'd been approved, and asked if I wanted to take them home today, or pick them up later.
Turns out, they had been at the shelter for almost 7 months after being surrendered because their family "didn't have time for them". Nobody had time for them.
We have time for them. I'm even more sure of my choice knowing what they came from and went through,
They have been with us for a day and a half now. They are eating, although it's not agreeing with them the greatest just yet. At least one of them is playing, they are exploring, they aren't running into hiding when we knock to open the door. They are using the boxes properly, and haven't destroyed anything yet. I even got a chance to love on the bolder of the two for a while this morning.
It's slower going than any of my previous cats, but these two lost a lot, and it's going to take them a while to open up again. And that's OK.
We'll give them everything they could possibly want or need, and see what happens.
I'm sure it will be something good.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Getting sterilized
So I'm finally taking the plunge. Not the same plunge most people are talking about when they use that line, but something no less important.
I'm on step 2 in the process of getting a tubal ligation. Step one was getting a recommendation from my PC doctor, step 2 is the consultation I have scheduled for the 14th.
The whole thing is apparently much easier if 1. There is something wrong with your reproductive organs. 2. You have had an abortion. 3. You have already made your family.
That's not horrible, that the process is harder for someone without those qualifiers.. but it does suck having to explain over and over that yes, yes I have thought about this, and yes, even though I'm under 30 and childless, this is what I want.
I'm trying to give my doctors an honest impression of my situation, and to that end, when asked (screening question) if I'd ever had an abortion, I said "quite honestly, that's exactly what I'm trying to avoid".
Now, I realize how horrible it is to say that my options are sterilization or abortion, especially since I personally know other women who want and cannot have kids, but for me, that's reality. I made the decision a long time ago that, given the state of my life, if I found myself pregnant despite my best efforts to prevent it, the quality of life of the child was more important than any guilt I may feel about the process. Since I don't feel I could give a child what it deserves, abortion is my best option -mind, I do use birth control, and always have. Abortion is not an option I wish to exercise if it can be avoided. If you don't agree with that decision, that's your right, but this is the choice that's right for me, for my life.
What it boils down to, at the end of the day, is that I realized that I don't have much capacity for nurturing. Sure I can manage pets, and sure, I look fine with kids, but I'm not. They make me uncomfortable until they hit double digits, because they aren't capable of having much in the way of a real conversation. I don't have the patience to deal with kid-noise, and I can barely keep my house clean as it is. Very simply, I know I'm not responsible enough to trust myself with a child.
Let me rephrase that; I might be great with kids, and that's awesome, but I'm not cut out for parenting. I highly respect people who can do the whole reproducing thing, especially if they thought about it beforehand. I want to be very clear that I'm not judging others because they've made a different choice than have I. I try to ask for the same consideration.
Someone who doesn't want to get married or have kids doesn't get that sort of respect from society. I've heard it all. "It'll be different once you have them." "You are too young to make that sort of choice." "You'll regret it if you don't do it." "You are being selfish, what if your partner wants kids?" "everyone thinks they don't want them until they have them." "Once you have the first one, you'll want a whole bunch more" and other various statements of the like. I hear the same sorts of things about marriage. "Don't you love him?" "what if he leaves you because you aren't married?" "What if you have kids?" "what about buying a house and having a life?"
Some of these statements, I've recently learned, are technically true. It is different when you have your own kids, but only because of the intense hormone cocktail that hijacks your system and more or less forces you to be nurturing and caring. The brain gets rewired, thanks to that baby. I'm sorry, but I really don't want that. I want to keep my brain working as-is, if only because I have no say in the hormone overdose, and I think that's crap. Just because it's in our nature, and we've evolved to want it, doesn't mean that clear heads should not prevail. I can barely manage to take care of myself, the last thing I need is a biological drive to sacrifice what little good I have in my life for the wellbeing of something I don't want in the first place. Pets don't cause this problem, and I have many.
Some of those statements are just plain hurtful. Telling me that I haven't thought enough about it, or that I'll change my mind (implying that I haven't thought about it at all) leads me to believe that people saying those things don't think I'm capable of weighing the pros and cons. The sick reality is that I've probably put more thought into not having kids than most people do into having them; after all, all you need to have a baby is an accident. You don't need to think about whether or not it's a good choice for you, since it's assumed that it is. You don't need to consider if you are fit to be a parent, because if you weren't fit, you wouldn't be having one, right?
Conversely, I've spent the better part of a decade weighing the pros and cons, thinking over every possibility, both good and bad. I did not reach my decision lightly, and in fact, I used to think I wanted kids, because that's what I was told was what life was about; husband, house, family. I spent years trying to work out how I could achieve my life goals and still have a family, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that kids just aren't a good fit. I want to travel the world, visit every country, never stay put. The world is a big place, and not experiencing it is a waste of life as far as my own personal view is concerned. (Again, if job, house, family is all you want in life, that's great!I'm not judging. It's just not what I want.) I realized that these ambitions would be nearly impossible if I had a family tying me down. Still, I thought long and hard about what giving up one or the other would mean, and I realized that I would miss a lot more by having a family than I would by making my life complete. The plans I came up with to zip these two lives together were ridiculous and convoluted, and never would have worked out.
By far, the most common and most obnoxious question I get is "what if you regret it?" nobody ever thinks about the flip-side of that question; what if I have the kids, and regret THAT choice? One regret can be fixed through adoption -there are more than enough babies in the world, and I don't need mine to share genetics with me- the other is an 18+ year commitment, regret or no. I've read forums filled with women who regret starting a family. They love their children, but they hate the life that comes with it. That regret doesn't go away just because we wish it would, or try to ignore it. Some people aren't cut out for it, just like some people aren't cut out to be surgeons because they can't stand the sight of blood, or pilots because they fear heights. You can't convince your way out of that; if it's not right, it's not right.
The honest reality is that, commitment issues aside, I just really don't like kids, and trying to convince me otherwise is not going to work. They are loud, which I can't stand both due to preference and due to headaches, they are messy, and I can barely clean up after myself, they are expensive, and I hate spending money and being broke, and they need a LOT of interaction from their parents. I have a hard time setting aside time to train the parrots I inherited, and I think they are neat; I enjoy working with them, and I still can't get myself to do it consistently. That's no situation to bring a child in to.
My partner is on board with my decision, and even his mom is perfectly OK with it (she's also supportive of us not getting married, which is a relief. She told me that, were it not nearly 40 years too late, she wouldn't marry, either) though being that he's his father's only child, his dad's not the happiest. He hasn't said anything about it, though, so he can go right ahead and feel however he wants about it. My partner said that he's getting a bit old to be starting a family, anyway (he's 9 years my senior, which makes him 37, presently) and that he doesn't want to be old and useless when his kids are just hitting the point in life when they are fun to be around. He also seems to realize that, since most of his sibling's kids are my age (talk about awkward... The oldest is 2 years younger than I am, and out of nearly 10 kids, only 2 are under 18 ) he can enjoy them having families, and he can be the awesome great uncle, without having to change his own life significantly to do so. That seems like a pretty awesome compromise for all involved.
Even so, I've been called selfish for not wanting kids, because everyone assumes my partner had no say in my decision. To be sure, if he had said "no, I definitely want kids" we certainly would not still be together, but only because we would want different things from life, and it never would have worked. A relationship, no matter how good, is never NEVER worth sacrificing your happiness. Nobody in that situation ends life content. But that's not what happened at all. I feel my decision is the opposite of selfish. More selfish would be to have them anyway, just because that's what I think I should do, knowing full well it's not a good fit. Children can tell when they aren't wanted, or when they are a burden. I could never do that to a sentient being.
The brutal reality is that my partner is so on-board with my decision that he volunteered to take a day off work to take me to the hospital 2.5 hours away (VA hospital; free healthcare for vets, but lots of driving to get it) and said "don't worry about when, just make the appointment, and I'll take off work." and THEN he's willing to sacrifice sex for an indeterminate amount of time after, until I feel better. If that isn't support, I don't know what is. It probably helps that I played nursemaid when he had hernia surgery.. even removed the bandages and redressed them, because he couldn't stomach the sight. Thank you, mom, for watching graphic surgical shows with dinner while I was growing up; a strong stomach has served me well. He seems excited that I'll be 99.9999999999999999% protected, since I'll still be getting depo injections (hormone control for headache control, and also I don't like the baggage Aunt Flo brings with) even though that's basically the same level of protection I have now, with my IUD.
We both enjoy the DINK life we have now (Dual Income, No Kids); we have the freedom to enjoy our time on earth, sans major responsibility. We can afford to do things that couples with kids can't, normally. We don't have to worry about what to do with the kids when we want to do something, or go somewhere, and making arrangements for someone to come take care of animals is much easier. Does it matter if our goals in life are different from yours or anyone else's? I don't think so..
A couple of pointers for those of you who with kids or who plan to have kids;
It's great that you are doing that, and have thought about it; we need a minimum number of babies every year to maintain the population, and we all appreciate the sacrifices you make to promote the species. But we do have quite a lot of babies, and we certainly don't need more from people who don't really want them. Please respect that just the way we respect you for the choice you've made.
Please don't try to convince people that your answer is the right one for them, too. Most people who have decided not to have kids have given it a great deal of thought. Our society is so focused on reproduction and centers so much around children that it's impossible not to think about. Please don't talk to us as though you know better; you don't. You only know what works for you.
We don't judge your decision, please don't judge ours, even if you don't agree with it. It doesn't matter, ultimately, what you think about our decision, you'll just be burning bridges. You will burn them, not us.
When you discuss reproduction with friends, ask them if they are PLANNING to reproduce, don't ask them WHEN they will reproduce. It seems like such a small thing, but it emphasizes to the person with whom you are speaking that you understand that it's their decision, and that you respect it either way. It also opens up a dialogue. The planning question not only leaves room to change the mind if necessary, but also discourages a lot of defensiveness. It's difficult not to be defensive when everyone is trying to convince you that you are making the wrong choice.
Don't assume that what worked for you, and what you experienced, will be the same for everyone. Keep in mind that many women, and sometimes even men, experience major life changes such as depression and stress with the birth of children, and some people aren't as well suited to deal with these complications as others. Also be aware that this is a major life change, complete with new hormone levels, new responsibilities, new commitments, and new expectations, and the end result is not the same for two people. We each are the sum of our experiences, and you never know what came before now that could change the way someone sees an event.
Keep in mind that what was a wonderful experience for you might be a living nightmare for someone else. If you don't believe me, do a google search for "I hate being a mother"; the stories are heartbreaking. You can judge those people, if you must, but remember; they were, by and large, pressured into changing their minds about having them.
At the end of the day, it's a personal decision. Feel free to discuss it, but understand that the decision was made with great care in nearly every case. If someone doesn't want kids, for whatever reason, great! They shouldn't have them if they don't want them. Everyone is happier that way.
I'm on step 2 in the process of getting a tubal ligation. Step one was getting a recommendation from my PC doctor, step 2 is the consultation I have scheduled for the 14th.
The whole thing is apparently much easier if 1. There is something wrong with your reproductive organs. 2. You have had an abortion. 3. You have already made your family.
That's not horrible, that the process is harder for someone without those qualifiers.. but it does suck having to explain over and over that yes, yes I have thought about this, and yes, even though I'm under 30 and childless, this is what I want.
I'm trying to give my doctors an honest impression of my situation, and to that end, when asked (screening question) if I'd ever had an abortion, I said "quite honestly, that's exactly what I'm trying to avoid".
Now, I realize how horrible it is to say that my options are sterilization or abortion, especially since I personally know other women who want and cannot have kids, but for me, that's reality. I made the decision a long time ago that, given the state of my life, if I found myself pregnant despite my best efforts to prevent it, the quality of life of the child was more important than any guilt I may feel about the process. Since I don't feel I could give a child what it deserves, abortion is my best option -mind, I do use birth control, and always have. Abortion is not an option I wish to exercise if it can be avoided. If you don't agree with that decision, that's your right, but this is the choice that's right for me, for my life.
What it boils down to, at the end of the day, is that I realized that I don't have much capacity for nurturing. Sure I can manage pets, and sure, I look fine with kids, but I'm not. They make me uncomfortable until they hit double digits, because they aren't capable of having much in the way of a real conversation. I don't have the patience to deal with kid-noise, and I can barely keep my house clean as it is. Very simply, I know I'm not responsible enough to trust myself with a child.
Let me rephrase that; I might be great with kids, and that's awesome, but I'm not cut out for parenting. I highly respect people who can do the whole reproducing thing, especially if they thought about it beforehand. I want to be very clear that I'm not judging others because they've made a different choice than have I. I try to ask for the same consideration.
Someone who doesn't want to get married or have kids doesn't get that sort of respect from society. I've heard it all. "It'll be different once you have them." "You are too young to make that sort of choice." "You'll regret it if you don't do it." "You are being selfish, what if your partner wants kids?" "everyone thinks they don't want them until they have them." "Once you have the first one, you'll want a whole bunch more" and other various statements of the like. I hear the same sorts of things about marriage. "Don't you love him?" "what if he leaves you because you aren't married?" "What if you have kids?" "what about buying a house and having a life?"
Some of these statements, I've recently learned, are technically true. It is different when you have your own kids, but only because of the intense hormone cocktail that hijacks your system and more or less forces you to be nurturing and caring. The brain gets rewired, thanks to that baby. I'm sorry, but I really don't want that. I want to keep my brain working as-is, if only because I have no say in the hormone overdose, and I think that's crap. Just because it's in our nature, and we've evolved to want it, doesn't mean that clear heads should not prevail. I can barely manage to take care of myself, the last thing I need is a biological drive to sacrifice what little good I have in my life for the wellbeing of something I don't want in the first place. Pets don't cause this problem, and I have many.
Some of those statements are just plain hurtful. Telling me that I haven't thought enough about it, or that I'll change my mind (implying that I haven't thought about it at all) leads me to believe that people saying those things don't think I'm capable of weighing the pros and cons. The sick reality is that I've probably put more thought into not having kids than most people do into having them; after all, all you need to have a baby is an accident. You don't need to think about whether or not it's a good choice for you, since it's assumed that it is. You don't need to consider if you are fit to be a parent, because if you weren't fit, you wouldn't be having one, right?
Conversely, I've spent the better part of a decade weighing the pros and cons, thinking over every possibility, both good and bad. I did not reach my decision lightly, and in fact, I used to think I wanted kids, because that's what I was told was what life was about; husband, house, family. I spent years trying to work out how I could achieve my life goals and still have a family, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that kids just aren't a good fit. I want to travel the world, visit every country, never stay put. The world is a big place, and not experiencing it is a waste of life as far as my own personal view is concerned. (Again, if job, house, family is all you want in life, that's great!I'm not judging. It's just not what I want.) I realized that these ambitions would be nearly impossible if I had a family tying me down. Still, I thought long and hard about what giving up one or the other would mean, and I realized that I would miss a lot more by having a family than I would by making my life complete. The plans I came up with to zip these two lives together were ridiculous and convoluted, and never would have worked out.
By far, the most common and most obnoxious question I get is "what if you regret it?" nobody ever thinks about the flip-side of that question; what if I have the kids, and regret THAT choice? One regret can be fixed through adoption -there are more than enough babies in the world, and I don't need mine to share genetics with me- the other is an 18+ year commitment, regret or no. I've read forums filled with women who regret starting a family. They love their children, but they hate the life that comes with it. That regret doesn't go away just because we wish it would, or try to ignore it. Some people aren't cut out for it, just like some people aren't cut out to be surgeons because they can't stand the sight of blood, or pilots because they fear heights. You can't convince your way out of that; if it's not right, it's not right.
The honest reality is that, commitment issues aside, I just really don't like kids, and trying to convince me otherwise is not going to work. They are loud, which I can't stand both due to preference and due to headaches, they are messy, and I can barely clean up after myself, they are expensive, and I hate spending money and being broke, and they need a LOT of interaction from their parents. I have a hard time setting aside time to train the parrots I inherited, and I think they are neat; I enjoy working with them, and I still can't get myself to do it consistently. That's no situation to bring a child in to.
My partner is on board with my decision, and even his mom is perfectly OK with it (she's also supportive of us not getting married, which is a relief. She told me that, were it not nearly 40 years too late, she wouldn't marry, either) though being that he's his father's only child, his dad's not the happiest. He hasn't said anything about it, though, so he can go right ahead and feel however he wants about it. My partner said that he's getting a bit old to be starting a family, anyway (he's 9 years my senior, which makes him 37, presently) and that he doesn't want to be old and useless when his kids are just hitting the point in life when they are fun to be around. He also seems to realize that, since most of his sibling's kids are my age (talk about awkward... The oldest is 2 years younger than I am, and out of nearly 10 kids, only 2 are under 18 ) he can enjoy them having families, and he can be the awesome great uncle, without having to change his own life significantly to do so. That seems like a pretty awesome compromise for all involved.
Even so, I've been called selfish for not wanting kids, because everyone assumes my partner had no say in my decision. To be sure, if he had said "no, I definitely want kids" we certainly would not still be together, but only because we would want different things from life, and it never would have worked. A relationship, no matter how good, is never NEVER worth sacrificing your happiness. Nobody in that situation ends life content. But that's not what happened at all. I feel my decision is the opposite of selfish. More selfish would be to have them anyway, just because that's what I think I should do, knowing full well it's not a good fit. Children can tell when they aren't wanted, or when they are a burden. I could never do that to a sentient being.
The brutal reality is that my partner is so on-board with my decision that he volunteered to take a day off work to take me to the hospital 2.5 hours away (VA hospital; free healthcare for vets, but lots of driving to get it) and said "don't worry about when, just make the appointment, and I'll take off work." and THEN he's willing to sacrifice sex for an indeterminate amount of time after, until I feel better. If that isn't support, I don't know what is. It probably helps that I played nursemaid when he had hernia surgery.. even removed the bandages and redressed them, because he couldn't stomach the sight. Thank you, mom, for watching graphic surgical shows with dinner while I was growing up; a strong stomach has served me well. He seems excited that I'll be 99.9999999999999999% protected, since I'll still be getting depo injections (hormone control for headache control, and also I don't like the baggage Aunt Flo brings with) even though that's basically the same level of protection I have now, with my IUD.
We both enjoy the DINK life we have now (Dual Income, No Kids); we have the freedom to enjoy our time on earth, sans major responsibility. We can afford to do things that couples with kids can't, normally. We don't have to worry about what to do with the kids when we want to do something, or go somewhere, and making arrangements for someone to come take care of animals is much easier. Does it matter if our goals in life are different from yours or anyone else's? I don't think so..
A couple of pointers for those of you who with kids or who plan to have kids;
It's great that you are doing that, and have thought about it; we need a minimum number of babies every year to maintain the population, and we all appreciate the sacrifices you make to promote the species. But we do have quite a lot of babies, and we certainly don't need more from people who don't really want them. Please respect that just the way we respect you for the choice you've made.
Please don't try to convince people that your answer is the right one for them, too. Most people who have decided not to have kids have given it a great deal of thought. Our society is so focused on reproduction and centers so much around children that it's impossible not to think about. Please don't talk to us as though you know better; you don't. You only know what works for you.
We don't judge your decision, please don't judge ours, even if you don't agree with it. It doesn't matter, ultimately, what you think about our decision, you'll just be burning bridges. You will burn them, not us.
When you discuss reproduction with friends, ask them if they are PLANNING to reproduce, don't ask them WHEN they will reproduce. It seems like such a small thing, but it emphasizes to the person with whom you are speaking that you understand that it's their decision, and that you respect it either way. It also opens up a dialogue. The planning question not only leaves room to change the mind if necessary, but also discourages a lot of defensiveness. It's difficult not to be defensive when everyone is trying to convince you that you are making the wrong choice.
Don't assume that what worked for you, and what you experienced, will be the same for everyone. Keep in mind that many women, and sometimes even men, experience major life changes such as depression and stress with the birth of children, and some people aren't as well suited to deal with these complications as others. Also be aware that this is a major life change, complete with new hormone levels, new responsibilities, new commitments, and new expectations, and the end result is not the same for two people. We each are the sum of our experiences, and you never know what came before now that could change the way someone sees an event.
Keep in mind that what was a wonderful experience for you might be a living nightmare for someone else. If you don't believe me, do a google search for "I hate being a mother"; the stories are heartbreaking. You can judge those people, if you must, but remember; they were, by and large, pressured into changing their minds about having them.
At the end of the day, it's a personal decision. Feel free to discuss it, but understand that the decision was made with great care in nearly every case. If someone doesn't want kids, for whatever reason, great! They shouldn't have them if they don't want them. Everyone is happier that way.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Feeling bad for having limits
I feel like a horrible person today.
Why, you ask?
Because I can't do the things I want to do.
Small potatoes, right? well not this time. This time, well-being is on the line, and not just my own.
In 2011, my mom died of cancer. About 7-10 years before that, she bought a pair of conure parrots, and didn't do much with them. When she died, I inherited them, because nobody else could or would look out for them, and pets are a serious commitment in my family; almost all of them have been rescue or adoption, and we understand all too well what giving up a pet means. It's not a decision we have ever made lightly.
2 years ago, I had to find a new home for one of my cats who was having major adjustment issues when we moved. She was the type of cat who needed to be the only cat, and who needed a lot more affection than 2 people with active lives could give her. Basically, she was the type of cat who needed a big family. We do not, nor will we ever, have that, and the realization that we couldn't provide for her was painful. We tried absolutely everything to help her cope with the new situation, which included moving to a house which was much larger than my old apartment, the boyfriend moving in as well, and the previous owners of the house having had pets of their own which marked the carpet. She began marking her territory, claiming the humans and chasing off the other cat, howling at night, all night every night, harassing us in bed, the works. She started throwing up more often that she had previously (long-haired cat; she threw up a lot already) and seemed generally stressed and unhappy. We tried for 6 months to help her adjust, and made no progress.
I had to think long and hard about what she needed, instead of what I needed. Eventually, I found her a family with 4 kids and no indoor pets, where she could be the adored center of attention whenever she needed to be. Somewhere that she didn't feel like she needed to claim her space, because it was all her space.
This situation is slightly different. Conures REALLY like to scream. I'm pretty sure it's their favorite activity. That would be OK, if it weren't for the headaches. As it stands, though, every scream is like an ice pick in my skull. I can't give them what they need because I can't cope with keeping them. That's horrible. I want to spend time with them, and train them, and play with them, but they haven't been worked with enough for that to be feasible, and when I do try to work with them, the noise they make just kills me.
I grew up with birds. We've almost always had them. My parents had a cockatoo when I was small, I had a 'keet of my own when I was 11 or so, and of course the conures, so I'm comfortable with them and their needs, just.. the noise. Parrots are well-known for their insane volume, and the bigger the bird, the louder they are; conures are roughly a foot from beak to tail, so they aren't the largest or the loudest, but they are still quite obnoxiously loud and, like I said, they love to scream. Especially when you get a phone call.
I don't even mind the biting, to be honest, since it only happens when they get out of the cage and I have to catch them -although it does usually draw blood, and I wouldn't mind something with a little less skin-piercing ability- but the preying mantids I kept in the living room last year had easily as much ability to injure me, and I loved keeping them, as well. You just avoid behavior that provokes them, whenever possible.
Conures can live for 35 years. Mine are about 15 now, give or take a few years. I don't think I could survive another 15 years of them. I've done my best, and I've trained them to the best of my ability, but they were never handled before I got them, so progress is painfully slow. I thought if I could just get them to interact with me, I could deal with the noise as a trade-off for companions. This has been largely unsuccessful, because I have no clue what I'm doing, especially with something so smart. They are much easier to train before they are mature, and while older birds can be trained, I don't have a clue how.
I find the situation terribly frustrating; I can't deal with them, I don't want to abandon them, and I don't want to lose the companionship of my critters. I keep a lot of pets to fill a void within myself; I enjoy having things that I can be responsible for, which I can keep happy and healthy, but which don't require a set schedule like dogs and their incessant need to go out to potty, or kids.. we all know how demanding those things are.. :p . I like having critters with which I can interact and observe, since the calm of observation and the relaxation of focus (interaction) really seem to help me stay grounded.
Today, I contacted a bird rescue group. I feel like a failure for not being able to be a person who could take care of them. I tried, for 5 years, to be that person, and I just can't do it; the noise is just too much. I feel like even more of a failure for including, with the letter, a statement about wanting to continue keeping birds, as I really enjoy them, and suggesting that perhaps a group of finches or parakeets might work better for me, as I've kept them before and enjoyed the company. This is pure speculation, but I assume that rescue groups don't like to hear "I can't deal with this pet, but I'd like you to give me a different one."
I explained the whole situation, including why I ended up with them, why I can't keep them, and why a different sort of bird would be OK while conures are not, but.. if I were them, would I trust me? I don't really know.. It's not because I don't have the capacity to care for them, it's just that what I ended up with is a bad fit for my life.
I hope the bird rescue place will understand my situation, and try to work something out with me; I don't have a lot of money for adoption fees of new birds, especially multiple birds, but I don't want to lose my companions just because I realize that the ones I have now aren't getting the life they deserve. I also hope they won't think I'm a bad person for wanting them to go to a home where they can be loved and adored as the beautiful companions they deserve to be.
Rock. Me. Hard place.
Why, you ask?
Because I can't do the things I want to do.
Small potatoes, right? well not this time. This time, well-being is on the line, and not just my own.
In 2011, my mom died of cancer. About 7-10 years before that, she bought a pair of conure parrots, and didn't do much with them. When she died, I inherited them, because nobody else could or would look out for them, and pets are a serious commitment in my family; almost all of them have been rescue or adoption, and we understand all too well what giving up a pet means. It's not a decision we have ever made lightly.
2 years ago, I had to find a new home for one of my cats who was having major adjustment issues when we moved. She was the type of cat who needed to be the only cat, and who needed a lot more affection than 2 people with active lives could give her. Basically, she was the type of cat who needed a big family. We do not, nor will we ever, have that, and the realization that we couldn't provide for her was painful. We tried absolutely everything to help her cope with the new situation, which included moving to a house which was much larger than my old apartment, the boyfriend moving in as well, and the previous owners of the house having had pets of their own which marked the carpet. She began marking her territory, claiming the humans and chasing off the other cat, howling at night, all night every night, harassing us in bed, the works. She started throwing up more often that she had previously (long-haired cat; she threw up a lot already) and seemed generally stressed and unhappy. We tried for 6 months to help her adjust, and made no progress.
I had to think long and hard about what she needed, instead of what I needed. Eventually, I found her a family with 4 kids and no indoor pets, where she could be the adored center of attention whenever she needed to be. Somewhere that she didn't feel like she needed to claim her space, because it was all her space.
This situation is slightly different. Conures REALLY like to scream. I'm pretty sure it's their favorite activity. That would be OK, if it weren't for the headaches. As it stands, though, every scream is like an ice pick in my skull. I can't give them what they need because I can't cope with keeping them. That's horrible. I want to spend time with them, and train them, and play with them, but they haven't been worked with enough for that to be feasible, and when I do try to work with them, the noise they make just kills me.
I grew up with birds. We've almost always had them. My parents had a cockatoo when I was small, I had a 'keet of my own when I was 11 or so, and of course the conures, so I'm comfortable with them and their needs, just.. the noise. Parrots are well-known for their insane volume, and the bigger the bird, the louder they are; conures are roughly a foot from beak to tail, so they aren't the largest or the loudest, but they are still quite obnoxiously loud and, like I said, they love to scream. Especially when you get a phone call.
I don't even mind the biting, to be honest, since it only happens when they get out of the cage and I have to catch them -although it does usually draw blood, and I wouldn't mind something with a little less skin-piercing ability- but the preying mantids I kept in the living room last year had easily as much ability to injure me, and I loved keeping them, as well. You just avoid behavior that provokes them, whenever possible.
Conures can live for 35 years. Mine are about 15 now, give or take a few years. I don't think I could survive another 15 years of them. I've done my best, and I've trained them to the best of my ability, but they were never handled before I got them, so progress is painfully slow. I thought if I could just get them to interact with me, I could deal with the noise as a trade-off for companions. This has been largely unsuccessful, because I have no clue what I'm doing, especially with something so smart. They are much easier to train before they are mature, and while older birds can be trained, I don't have a clue how.
I find the situation terribly frustrating; I can't deal with them, I don't want to abandon them, and I don't want to lose the companionship of my critters. I keep a lot of pets to fill a void within myself; I enjoy having things that I can be responsible for, which I can keep happy and healthy, but which don't require a set schedule like dogs and their incessant need to go out to potty, or kids.. we all know how demanding those things are.. :p . I like having critters with which I can interact and observe, since the calm of observation and the relaxation of focus (interaction) really seem to help me stay grounded.
Today, I contacted a bird rescue group. I feel like a failure for not being able to be a person who could take care of them. I tried, for 5 years, to be that person, and I just can't do it; the noise is just too much. I feel like even more of a failure for including, with the letter, a statement about wanting to continue keeping birds, as I really enjoy them, and suggesting that perhaps a group of finches or parakeets might work better for me, as I've kept them before and enjoyed the company. This is pure speculation, but I assume that rescue groups don't like to hear "I can't deal with this pet, but I'd like you to give me a different one."
I explained the whole situation, including why I ended up with them, why I can't keep them, and why a different sort of bird would be OK while conures are not, but.. if I were them, would I trust me? I don't really know.. It's not because I don't have the capacity to care for them, it's just that what I ended up with is a bad fit for my life.
I hope the bird rescue place will understand my situation, and try to work something out with me; I don't have a lot of money for adoption fees of new birds, especially multiple birds, but I don't want to lose my companions just because I realize that the ones I have now aren't getting the life they deserve. I also hope they won't think I'm a bad person for wanting them to go to a home where they can be loved and adored as the beautiful companions they deserve to be.
Rock. Me. Hard place.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Honesty is always the best policy.
I live my life honestly. I don't mean I'm not a cheat, although I'm not. What I mean is that.. I really have great difficulty being dishonest with people, and whenever possible, I just give the full, blunt, brutal truth. Yes, it causes a lot of problems sometimes, but I've found that the result of not being completely honest is much worse. The following is just one example, a situation which just transpired, of why honesty is my go-to policy for interpersonal contact.
I have the weekend to myself, even though it's a holiday weekend and we had plans; the VA screwed up and didn't set my appointment, so my suppression treatment was interrupted, and I'm about a month, plus or minus a few days, overdue for my injections. Resulting, of course, in miserablemonkey. I had a headache for almost 2 weeks straight (thankfully it has stopped being a constant wake-to-sleep pain) and I've been so edgy that, frankly, it's a wonder I haven't pushed everyone away. Let's just say it got to the point where I started thinking about just how poorly suited campering with a huge family (the BF's, not my own) really was to having a constant headache and needing dark, quiet, and alone-ness. And let's just say I nearly had a panic attack from dread of the situation I was about to be stuck in.
I had an honest chat with the BF, which made me feel even more like crap, when I told him that this just really wasn't a good time. He didn't take it entirely well. The next day I wrote out the letter to loved ones (post before this one) primarily for my own benefit, but also for his, and for anyone else who's life intersects my own. I convinced him to read it, which may have been easier than I thought, because my anxiety flared up, but I told him that my very good friend felt like he understood my situation better after he read it, and I think that was enough convincing.
I sat with him while he read the 5-page document right off my blog, just like you can. I would give him special treatment, but I feel that would be singling him out, and I don't want to do that; I don't blame anyone for how they respond to my conditions, it's just a shit situation for all involved. I think presenting it as "I wrote this thing that might help people understand my pain and what helps and doesn't, and I'd really appreciate it you'd take the time to have a look" did the trick. There were a few parts I think he skipped, but for the most part, he sat and read it like a good, supportive, partner, and afterward said "a lot of those things... I guess.. I really had no idea..." He looked about ready to cry.
We then revisited the conversation regarding the family trip for July 4th. I explained, honestly, that being off of my treatment really screwed my world up, even though my treatment is suppression and reduction, not a complete symptom negation. I explained that, even if I did go, I would just end up spending the time alone, resentful, and in agony, with no hope for escape if necessary from the noise, the smoke smell, the lot of it, with the nice bonus of a couple dozen people being unnecessarily concerned about me. I explained that it was just really bad timing, and that although I want to go, it's just not a good idea, and I have to accept that that's going to happen sometimes, even though I don't like it.
He took it a lot better this time around, and we even managed to have a frank and honest discussion about which of my failings were most annoying. I want to do what I can to make everything as easy for my loved ones as possible, so I'm really open to criticism of that sort, as long as it's not phrased as an insult or complaint; I'm still human.. I get defensive. It happens.
We've now set tentative plans for after my treatment has resumed, and I feel like he understands a bit better that, when I say I -can't- do something, it's not an exaggeration or excuse, but a fact. I think he also understands a bit more, now, that I can't control or predict when it will be bad. The best I can do is deal with the symptoms when they flare up, and sometimes that means being a flake.
He also seems a bit more forgiving about my level of productivity (or more specifically, the level of my non-productivity..) and motivation, and I think it might be a bit clearer that I really do make an effort. As a bonus, my habit of listing my daily accomplishments makes a lot more sense, now, with the understanding that I'm sharing to be clear that I did what I could.
We've been together long enough that this should have been discussed a long time ago in this way, but... neither of us is really all that great at talking.. My anxiety flares up, and I can't get the right words to come out, and he just tends to be non-responsive (I think that sort of conversation just makes him really uncomfortable). We should have covered this stuff a long time ago, and perhaps we wouldn't have had the friction we have had.
Either way, regrets are useless; we have addressed it, and perhaps the results will be long-lived. Perhaps not.
If you haven't yet, I definitely recommend having this sort of conversation with your partner(s). It's really amazingly hard to do, until you've done it... then you just wonder why it took you so long.
The things that need to be said the most tend to be those most difficult to discuss.
I have the weekend to myself, even though it's a holiday weekend and we had plans; the VA screwed up and didn't set my appointment, so my suppression treatment was interrupted, and I'm about a month, plus or minus a few days, overdue for my injections. Resulting, of course, in miserablemonkey. I had a headache for almost 2 weeks straight (thankfully it has stopped being a constant wake-to-sleep pain) and I've been so edgy that, frankly, it's a wonder I haven't pushed everyone away. Let's just say it got to the point where I started thinking about just how poorly suited campering with a huge family (the BF's, not my own) really was to having a constant headache and needing dark, quiet, and alone-ness. And let's just say I nearly had a panic attack from dread of the situation I was about to be stuck in.
I had an honest chat with the BF, which made me feel even more like crap, when I told him that this just really wasn't a good time. He didn't take it entirely well. The next day I wrote out the letter to loved ones (post before this one) primarily for my own benefit, but also for his, and for anyone else who's life intersects my own. I convinced him to read it, which may have been easier than I thought, because my anxiety flared up, but I told him that my very good friend felt like he understood my situation better after he read it, and I think that was enough convincing.
I sat with him while he read the 5-page document right off my blog, just like you can. I would give him special treatment, but I feel that would be singling him out, and I don't want to do that; I don't blame anyone for how they respond to my conditions, it's just a shit situation for all involved. I think presenting it as "I wrote this thing that might help people understand my pain and what helps and doesn't, and I'd really appreciate it you'd take the time to have a look" did the trick. There were a few parts I think he skipped, but for the most part, he sat and read it like a good, supportive, partner, and afterward said "a lot of those things... I guess.. I really had no idea..." He looked about ready to cry.
We then revisited the conversation regarding the family trip for July 4th. I explained, honestly, that being off of my treatment really screwed my world up, even though my treatment is suppression and reduction, not a complete symptom negation. I explained that, even if I did go, I would just end up spending the time alone, resentful, and in agony, with no hope for escape if necessary from the noise, the smoke smell, the lot of it, with the nice bonus of a couple dozen people being unnecessarily concerned about me. I explained that it was just really bad timing, and that although I want to go, it's just not a good idea, and I have to accept that that's going to happen sometimes, even though I don't like it.
He took it a lot better this time around, and we even managed to have a frank and honest discussion about which of my failings were most annoying. I want to do what I can to make everything as easy for my loved ones as possible, so I'm really open to criticism of that sort, as long as it's not phrased as an insult or complaint; I'm still human.. I get defensive. It happens.
We've now set tentative plans for after my treatment has resumed, and I feel like he understands a bit better that, when I say I -can't- do something, it's not an exaggeration or excuse, but a fact. I think he also understands a bit more, now, that I can't control or predict when it will be bad. The best I can do is deal with the symptoms when they flare up, and sometimes that means being a flake.
He also seems a bit more forgiving about my level of productivity (or more specifically, the level of my non-productivity..) and motivation, and I think it might be a bit clearer that I really do make an effort. As a bonus, my habit of listing my daily accomplishments makes a lot more sense, now, with the understanding that I'm sharing to be clear that I did what I could.
We've been together long enough that this should have been discussed a long time ago in this way, but... neither of us is really all that great at talking.. My anxiety flares up, and I can't get the right words to come out, and he just tends to be non-responsive (I think that sort of conversation just makes him really uncomfortable). We should have covered this stuff a long time ago, and perhaps we wouldn't have had the friction we have had.
Either way, regrets are useless; we have addressed it, and perhaps the results will be long-lived. Perhaps not.
If you haven't yet, I definitely recommend having this sort of conversation with your partner(s). It's really amazingly hard to do, until you've done it... then you just wonder why it took you so long.
The things that need to be said the most tend to be those most difficult to discuss.
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