Savant was in the hospital for the major part of November. We could only visit him for one hour a week, and I went alone the first week. I lost it and spent a half hour crying in the parking garage before I could pull myself together enough to drive home after I went. And then I was a sad vegetable for a few days, so I didn't go again. He and his Dad needed more personal time anyway.
While he was gone I actually started to remember what it was like to make plans that had something to do with me and to possibly move from last place on my list of people who need attention. That came to a crashing stop when his after-care plans all involved me resuming the "Kiss Your Life Goodbye" chauffeur service. I tried to tell some one's voice mail at the hospital that I was going to be their next patient if they didn't stop dumping it all on me, but they wouldn't return my calls. They set him up with day facilities that were no where near our town. I'd object, they'd ignore.
They tell you he's an adult so they don't have to talk to you, even though he has signed a paper saying they can. Then they set him up with appointments at places he can't ride his bike to, or ride our local trolley to. (You don't want this guy behind the wheel just now.) I've already been taking him to a doctor who isn't in our town because there are virtually no doctors who will participate in Medicare! I'll spare you the rant about that travesty, and the story that we don't have those kind (mentally ill) of people in our town so we don't have services for them. We tried the one place in town when he first got sick and it SUCKED! Tag the loony, collect a check.
So despite my trying to get some one's attention about the fact that I was not volunteering to drive him to one city in the morning and another city in the afternoon, and other days have a different combination of cities and times, that is exactly what I'm doing. I got a lecture from someone at one potential after-care facility about what a good mother should be willing to sacrifice for the well being of her child. I wanted to jump through the phone! He's an adult! A sick one, but still over 21.
Husband points out that my tourette's is really acting up; gee thanks Honey. It wouldn't have anything to do with stress would it? I'm not suicidal, but the urge to sleep in the woods is getting stronger. Don't worry, I suck at wrist cutting. I've had worse from a rose bush. They are little angry scratches. Very easy to hide. I've only done it a few times and it only started in the last couple of years. It is really stupid, and I don't understand it, but I feel calmer afterward.
When I was little, one of my parents used to say, "Ignore her. She's just trying to get attention". I treat myself the same way.
Savant seemed better than he did in October, except when he forgot to take his medicine about a week ago and became very paranoid. After a couple of distressing days he confided that he was worried that we were homicidal psychos. He searched the house for evidence (bodies?) despite our assurance that we have always been peaceful folks. When I asked him if he would feel safer at the hospital, he said yes, but he wasn't willing to let me drive him anywhere. Long night. He got back on track with his medicine and the doctor tweaked it again yesterday, and he seems a bit better.
I want to get up in the morning and leave. Silly Rabbit, you can't be an architect anymore, you've got important driving to do and you're too old, fat, stressed, angry, stupid, one of the Extra People. If I didn't exist, these problems still would; how would Savant get to the doctor? Tell me please. So much for not writing about Savant so much.
Pity party will continue until a tornado blows fancy dirt over the rainbow.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
Is That Pepe le Pew or You?
from Sunday, May 15, 2005
As long as I'm telling cat stories, instead of addressing the current stuff, I'll tell about a kitten that lived near us.
My husband built a third garage onto the house, for the tractor and bush-hog, but hadn't put a door on it yet. We investigated a loud ruckus in there one night and could see two skunks, making baby skunks, under the tractor. Needless to say it left a pungent odor in there.
The people who owned the acreage next to us, built a house. They got a couple of kittens and a pug dog. The pug had an odd habit of walking around with a rock in it's mouth. We found the pug, dead, in the field behind our house. I think he choked on his rock or one of my husband's unretrieved golf balls. But this story is really about the little female kitten and our big, handsome, black & white, neutered, curmudgeon of a male cat.
The kittens came to our house, exploring. If they had been adults, our cat would have started a fight. Instead he tried to avoid them. A few days later when I was outside and I saw the little female come stumbling out of the tractor shed like she was drunk. She began to roll around on the ground in a post-sex way. Then she spots our cat and thinks she's in love. She follows him around and tries her best to get him to notice her. I was surprised that he tolerated her as nicely as he did.
As soon as the skunk smell left her her mind, she would head for home like someone who has sobered up and realized the guy in the bar was really a dud.
This happened over and over. She was so funny after she visited the tractor shed and then tried to put her best moves on our cat. She was such a cutie. After the neutering, I had never seen our cat let another feline get that close to him. He'd give me these looks like he was thinking, "What's up with the drunk chick? Make her go away."
As long as I'm telling cat stories, instead of addressing the current stuff, I'll tell about a kitten that lived near us.
My husband built a third garage onto the house, for the tractor and bush-hog, but hadn't put a door on it yet. We investigated a loud ruckus in there one night and could see two skunks, making baby skunks, under the tractor. Needless to say it left a pungent odor in there.
The people who owned the acreage next to us, built a house. They got a couple of kittens and a pug dog. The pug had an odd habit of walking around with a rock in it's mouth. We found the pug, dead, in the field behind our house. I think he choked on his rock or one of my husband's unretrieved golf balls. But this story is really about the little female kitten and our big, handsome, black & white, neutered, curmudgeon of a male cat.
The kittens came to our house, exploring. If they had been adults, our cat would have started a fight. Instead he tried to avoid them. A few days later when I was outside and I saw the little female come stumbling out of the tractor shed like she was drunk. She began to roll around on the ground in a post-sex way. Then she spots our cat and thinks she's in love. She follows him around and tries her best to get him to notice her. I was surprised that he tolerated her as nicely as he did.
As soon as the skunk smell left her her mind, she would head for home like someone who has sobered up and realized the guy in the bar was really a dud.
This happened over and over. She was so funny after she visited the tractor shed and then tried to put her best moves on our cat. She was such a cutie. After the neutering, I had never seen our cat let another feline get that close to him. He'd give me these looks like he was thinking, "What's up with the drunk chick? Make her go away."
Cats, Bunnies, Skunks...
from Sunday, May 15, 2005
It is early morning and I just looked out the window. There were three bunnies out there. Then I looked around and saw my cat watching them; quick, get him some cat food! He usually just likes to watch, but when he had a "cat door" in our last house, he would sometimes bring in baby bunnies, and birds. We would chase him and he almost always dropped it, bleeding a bit, and then we would have to chase the poor thing to catch it and release it far from the house. Last week a squirrel was walking around on the back porch and I moved to a different window to watch it and was very surprised to see our cat lounging on a chair, just watching it.
He is an outside cat now. I built him a house from a big box; lined it with padding covered with blanket, to keep him warm this winter. He never used it. He used his "summer bed" all winter. He would sit on the top of the box, but never go in. I tried putting him in it to show him how comfy it was, and he would jump out like I was trying to trick him into a trip to the Vet. It is at the dump now.
He is a very big, black and white tuxedo cat. He is very aloof, not needy. He was an adolescent when we first took him in. We were in an apartment while we built our first house, and would see him sleeping on our porch, in a box that was there. We didn't want a pet, but he became very sick and I had to get him to a Vet or he surely would have died. The kids loved him, and named him Sox. He soon hit puberty and became obnoxious, jerking his tail and spraying everything. He was smitten with a small cat, and spent lots of time trying to get her pregnant. He did, and we had him neutered. He seemed very pissed off, for a long time, about the neutering.
My daughter asked a man in the apartment complex, who had a black and white cat, if she could borrow her, to show to me. When she took it back the guy said he didn't want it back. She told him she couldn't keep it and he said,"Then you have a problem, don't you." and never answered his door again. She was a very clever cat and would crawl up the exhaust pipe for the cook top, before it was connected, and would end up meowing in the kitchen cabinet! Luckily I found a home for her soon after that.
Sox is very territorial and won't be friendly with any other cats. After we moved into our house, I coaxed a starving, stray, long haired, black and white cat out of a field by our house. She was beautiful, with long hair on her cheeks that stuck out like on Silvester the Cat of Tweety Bird fame. I put an ad in the paper to find her a home, after we had fattened her up, but I made a huge mistake. I forgot to say that she was terrified of dogs. I drove up to the home of the first people who called and they had dogs. The lady was out the door already and the cat was freaking out, clinging to me with her claws. The lady was ecstatic about what a beautiful cat she was and promised she would be inside, away from the dogs. It just felt so wrong, but I gave her the cat.
My husband smokes outside. One evening, while having a cigarette by the creek and he thought Sox had joined him, but when he looked down, it was a skunk standing next to him!
Another time I saw Sox walking up the driveway with a green snake wrapped around his head. I took it away from him, but he looked so funny.
My very favorite stray was Raggamuffin. I loved that cat, but it is a long story. And the amorous kitten with a crush on Sox. But I'll save them for a different entry.
It is early morning and I just looked out the window. There were three bunnies out there. Then I looked around and saw my cat watching them; quick, get him some cat food! He usually just likes to watch, but when he had a "cat door" in our last house, he would sometimes bring in baby bunnies, and birds. We would chase him and he almost always dropped it, bleeding a bit, and then we would have to chase the poor thing to catch it and release it far from the house. Last week a squirrel was walking around on the back porch and I moved to a different window to watch it and was very surprised to see our cat lounging on a chair, just watching it.
He is an outside cat now. I built him a house from a big box; lined it with padding covered with blanket, to keep him warm this winter. He never used it. He used his "summer bed" all winter. He would sit on the top of the box, but never go in. I tried putting him in it to show him how comfy it was, and he would jump out like I was trying to trick him into a trip to the Vet. It is at the dump now.
He is a very big, black and white tuxedo cat. He is very aloof, not needy. He was an adolescent when we first took him in. We were in an apartment while we built our first house, and would see him sleeping on our porch, in a box that was there. We didn't want a pet, but he became very sick and I had to get him to a Vet or he surely would have died. The kids loved him, and named him Sox. He soon hit puberty and became obnoxious, jerking his tail and spraying everything. He was smitten with a small cat, and spent lots of time trying to get her pregnant. He did, and we had him neutered. He seemed very pissed off, for a long time, about the neutering.
My daughter asked a man in the apartment complex, who had a black and white cat, if she could borrow her, to show to me. When she took it back the guy said he didn't want it back. She told him she couldn't keep it and he said,"Then you have a problem, don't you." and never answered his door again. She was a very clever cat and would crawl up the exhaust pipe for the cook top, before it was connected, and would end up meowing in the kitchen cabinet! Luckily I found a home for her soon after that.
Sox is very territorial and won't be friendly with any other cats. After we moved into our house, I coaxed a starving, stray, long haired, black and white cat out of a field by our house. She was beautiful, with long hair on her cheeks that stuck out like on Silvester the Cat of Tweety Bird fame. I put an ad in the paper to find her a home, after we had fattened her up, but I made a huge mistake. I forgot to say that she was terrified of dogs. I drove up to the home of the first people who called and they had dogs. The lady was out the door already and the cat was freaking out, clinging to me with her claws. The lady was ecstatic about what a beautiful cat she was and promised she would be inside, away from the dogs. It just felt so wrong, but I gave her the cat.
My husband smokes outside. One evening, while having a cigarette by the creek and he thought Sox had joined him, but when he looked down, it was a skunk standing next to him!
Another time I saw Sox walking up the driveway with a green snake wrapped around his head. I took it away from him, but he looked so funny.
My very favorite stray was Raggamuffin. I loved that cat, but it is a long story. And the amorous kitten with a crush on Sox. But I'll save them for a different entry.
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