It’s time to do this thing.

Very Long Day. Mama Cass is with J&J already and I feel bereft and miss her horribly. Am watching the cat watch the aquarium and waiting for tea to boil. Will get up early tomorrow to finish the packing I’ve been idly doing all weekend and then board a plane to Chicago. The journals, the panel–this is MY YEAR. I am AWPumped.

In a grand Ironic Twist, the clueless relief vet that drove me to switch hospitals in the first place was filling in for Dr. M today. When she walked through the door for a recheck, I just thought my head was going to explode. Predictably, she had no answers and no useful advice. “This looks good! Do you want us to re-bandage it?” Well, I don’t know. Does it need to be re-bandaged? Does it need air? “Oh, yeah. I don’t know! I guess just leave it?” and so on. UNBELIEVABLE. Now I have to go in to see the real vet tomorrow morning. I am tempted to think this is a sign that I need to go back to my first vet, but what really needs to happen is that I need to talk to the doctor who cut Mama Cass open and sewed her up all shitty and find out what went wrong and why he wasn’t accessible and why she wouldn’t stop bleeding and what the hell is going on. THIS IS RIDICULOUS. What is the deal? Tuscaloosa, you only got that one shitty relief vet?

I guess on the upside, there is absolutely no doubt that I am going to be a TIGER MOTHER. This shit does not fly.

I’d really rather be reading Donna Haraway.

There’s a long pause when a woman and a man
Struggle with equal strength.

Fanny Howe

This is my AWP hair and my sick dog-under eye circles.

I remember on the second drive to the Emergi-Vet on Friday night, thinking of my therapist’s admonition Do not call your parents in times of crisis and feeling like it was just TOO MUCH, I can’t do this alone, this is so terrifying, I can’t be doing this alone. The thing is, I did. I did do it alone. Even though I can’t catch a fucking break lately, I am doing this thing, and I am doing it alone. And this morning, after I finally felt my dog was out of the woods, I slept in until 10 and ate ice cream for breakfast in bed. Spring usually marks the passage into a time of hope for me–or maybe it’s just the lamictal starting to work–and I mean, I get to start wearing sundresses again–and I just feel like I am going to do well, cocooning for the foreseeable future. Doing this thing alone. I have my rituals and routines, my blessings and my burdens, I’m just a person. I don’t have to go any further or any faster than that.

Chicago and New York so so so soon. I am SO READY to be in a city.

(I took this in the Museum of Natural History this past summer. I think this was called The Hall of Life? That place is just staggering.)

In other, non-veterinary news

This morning I spotted the first Crimson Clover of the season, which means (in my mind, at least) it is Officially Spring:

Emergi-vet said that the swelling has gone down substantially and she can stay in the bandage they changed this morning until Monday (when, obviously, homegirl will need to make a trip to the Real Vet again.) I am so exhausted I am hallucinating. I had horrible nightmares when I dozed off. I know I should work but I am having some trouble focussing my eyes, so I think I’ll just sit on the couch instead. At some point I need to either wash or throw away all this blood soaked bedding/towels/tshirts/etc. I can’t think about that today. I’ll think about that tomorrow.

…whereupon, having realized my dog bled through every towel in the house, I took her to the emergi-vet, whose techs faithfully bound her wounds with a pressure bandage, which bled all the way through by the time we got home, blood cascading out of the bottom of her blue bandage and making plops on the floor (which is not at all a bare image), necessitating a second trip to the emergi-vet, a thicker bandage, vitamin K and a sedative to keep her immobile until her next bandage change which will be, with any luck, mid-morning tomorrow. And not in 30 minutes.

I cannot lose this dog right now. She has to stay alive.

Home from the hospital and SUPER STONED.

Distraction

Dropped by Twice As Nice while I am waiting for the Vet to call and say Mama’s in the clear. Even though this is a size smaller than the smallest I can ordinarily wear, I just had an instinct. The second I zipped it up I got so excited I nearly wore it out of the store.

Seven dollars, by the way. Someone who is pulling the strings likes me today.

Update: I JUST DISCOVERED THIS DRESS HAS POCKETS. It is now my new favorite dress.