Scary Day

Yesterday I went to the emergency room. I had never been to the emergency room, so I now feel I am an expert in all things hospital: surgery, OB, emergency. Here's the story why:

I was in a meeting with my department chair and a colleague. They were discussing something interesting - I'm sure, I don't know because my brain went on the fritz. I was trying to take notes and discovered I couldn't get my hands to write contact. CONTACT. So I began to panic. And then I couldn't write at all. I worked very hard to just write words and I couldn't. Then my arm went numb and I had a headache. I thought, here I am dying of a brain aneurysm and the last thing I will hear is my department chair pontificating about some bullshit. I get out of the meeting, make it through chatting with my colleague (which is fine since he's a bud) and then I get to my office and call my husband. I sink down against the wall to rationalize with him how I do not have to go to the doctor. He makes me call and I get referred to emergent care who says I have to not stop go and immediately check into the emergency room. So Paul picks me up, after dropping the Princess off at a friend's for babysitting (and now I am thinking she'll grow up without a mother) and off we go. The ER doc suggests it could be a mild stroke (which I am way too young to have had) or multiple sclerosis (which has more symptoms than I had) or a major migraine (but the headache isn't strong enough) ... I'm hoping for the last possibility. They connect all these wires to me, check my heart, take a bunch of blood, put me through a cat scan, and then I wait for results. Let me tell you my great-grandfather died of a brain aneurysm. He checked into the emergency room and never checked out. So this is what I am thinking. Telling Paul what to do if I die, where the bills are, etc etc. Called my dad. Tried to act all calm and shit. The results came back and there is nothing to cause these symptoms. So off I go to the neurologist today to have my brain checked.

Can I tell you how tired I am of having to go to the doctor???

A Great Day

On Saturday all of the most important people in the Princess's life were gathered to see her baptism. The priest was very impressed with her entourage and I was very impressed with how well everyone got along. The food was good. The night was fun. And the gifts she received from friends were wonderful and too much.

Thank you all for everything...the Princess is very lucky.

Family

My family descends this weekend. All of them. This has never happened before, but you know, the Princess brings out the crazy in all of us. So all of Paul's family and my divorced family...all of them, here in Ogden, this weekend. Luckily I said they had to stay at hotels because I'm not sure they all get along...

Where's the gin? And the wine?

A Little Mourning

Anyone who knows me knows I am a sap for animals. I can't watch movies that have animals getting hurt in them, I can't read that book Marley because I know the dog dies at the end, and I believe that Michael Vick should get the death penalty, and I generally argue against the death penalty. I love animals, all animals, not just my animals, but all animals. So here's a story about one little animal.

Fourteen years ago I heard a meow coming from a snow bank outside the building I was taking classes in. It was freezing cold in Syracuse and there was this little kitty meowing. I grab her, take her home with me to my apartment. Of course I'm not allowed to have pets, so I call my dad. I make this very compelling case for taking care of the kitty for at least a couple of months and then a friend of mine will take her. My dad very graciously says yes. I name the kitty Manute (after Manute Boll (sp?) who was very popular at the time) and bring her home. Of course my friend never takes her and she moves with me and my dad to our new home in West Coxsackie. When my dad first moved in there was no furniture, no other people (my dad lives out in the middle of nowhere) so Manute was his roommate. They used to sleep next to each other on the floor in what would become his room. Over the years she has watched a number of animals come and go. Every time one of us moved home we came with a pet, which we left. While my husband lived with my dad for a couple of months he climbed a tree to rescue Manute, and got much scratched up in the process. She was cute and sweet and she had no teeth. She never made a sound, she hated being carried, and her favorite person in the world was my dad. She used to sit next to him and just lean on him and if he wasn't paying sufficient attention she would claw him.

Manute left home Thursday night and hasn't returned. My dad called yesterday to let me know that he thinks she has heard the great kitty call and left. You know cats do this. They know their time is near and they go off to find a comfortable place. I haven't seen her in a year and a half and I would have liked to see her one last time. As I sit here and write this tears are rolling down my face. Wherever she is, I am sure she has found some nice soft soul to lean up against.