MFA Mama

in which Isis and I receive excellent veterinary care & hobos save the day

   First of all, Isis is going to be okay. That said, the surgery ended up being a bigger deal than planned; the vet said that the surface lumps were the tops of two "tracks" where it appears that something (she thinks smart money would be on barbed thorns of some kind, although she didn't cut the hunk she removed apart because apparently Pathology likes to do that themselves) burrowed down into Isis's belly and kept on going, nearly piercing her abdominal wall (which would have been VERY BAD NEWS). So Isis has a two-inch incision with a LOT of stitches, and apparently it goes waaaay down internally as well (they sent her home with a second course of antibiotics and some heavy-duty narcotic pain pills--she is also sporting a Cone of Shame) The good news is that the vet said she is 99% certain that this had nothing whatsoever to do with anything malignant (although Pathology will still have a go at the cutlet she excised to be sure). The terrifying news is that apparently waiting even a few days could have had an awful result--THANK YOU, INNERNET!

   That out of the way, when I picked Isis up and lifted her carefully into the MFA Minivan, I placed my keys and phone in the cup-tray and shut the passenger door. While I was going around, Isis jumped up and stepped on the lock button, and...yeah. Fuuuuuudge. Here is where it gets ridiculous! There was a drycleaner RIGHT THERE and I easily obtained a coathanger, but was then accosted by a group of chivalrous hobos who were all "ma'am can we help you? You're bleedin' pretty bad." One of them took a knee and covered his eyes, another one took the coathanger, and a third ran for the vet (who apparently is a friend of theirs). Son of a gun if I hadn't nicked my knuckle somehow, except I couldn't tell WHAT the hell I'd done because I honestly felt nothing but there was blood POURING out of it. I must say, our new favorite veterinary practice went WAY above and beyond; the vet frog-marched me into her clinic, leaving her techs to ride herd on the hobos, and scrubbed my hand with surgical soap, then applied a neat pressure dressing, grabbed a "spay hook" to arm the hobos with, and came back outside with me, and within a few moments they were able to jimmy the lock on the MFA Minivan and Isis and I were on our way.

   When I got home, Hotter wanted to have a look at my hand. "This will go one of two ways," I told him. "Either I will need to go and get some stitches, or else it will be something the size of a paper cut and this is just that thing where Levaquin effs up my platelets and there is a bloodbath." We unbandaged it and...there was no visible mark. I bent my finger slightly and there it was, the size of an effing papercut, and there came the bloodbath. Yay? I mean, I'm super-glad I didn't have to shell out for stitches, but I'm guessing I shouldn't have bled enough to make a hobo woozy from something so utterly insignificant. 

   Oh well. I am calling today a wash, honestly, because while there was suckage a-plenty, everything bad pretty much ended up turning out to have been the best-case scenario in the end. And you?

at this point I kind of have to laugh, probably because I've come unhinged

*   Cytology results: mixed inflammatory and neoplastic cells. Neoplastic = cancer per our vet. God dammit.

*   For fun I spiked a fever at work and my ear and the whole left side of my head started hurting badly enough that I didn't even argue with Hotter when he said he really thought I ought to go back to Urgent Care.

*   Where I promptly fainted, which apparently they frown upon. The good news is, it was just my blood pressure sucking ass, as it tends to do when I am ill in pretty much any way. The bad news is, I still have a fever, a crappy ear and infected sinuses. They put me on steroids in addition to the antibiotics, because I need reasons to not sleep, be emo, and eat my feelings right now.

*   On the way through the drive-thru at the pharmacy where I was dropping off my four (YES, FOUR! BECAUSE I CAN TOTALLY AFFORD THAT OH HAHAHA) new prescriptions, smoke started pouring out from under the hood of the MFA Minivan. Or maybe it was steam because I was driving through several inches of water, from all the tornadoes? The temperature gauge looked okay and I'll see how it acts tomorrow I guess.

*   Lightning struck our big tree out back, the one with the engine hoist I use to hang things while I butcher them. HA! YOU MISSED ME! 

*   Isis has surgery scheduled for bright and early Monday morning. The good news is, I found a surgeries-only veterinary practice/animal healing ministry that caters to low-income families that'll excise the mass for a flat fee of $125 since it is smaller than a quarter. They sound a little woo-woo, but I don't really care if they pray over my dog while she's asleep as long as they remove the mass and don't expect me to join in. Pathology is another $100 and I really want to get that done, just so we know, but I don't know if I'll be able to afford it (you have to pay up front, in cash or certified funds) (I told you they catered to low-income people there). No, I would not put a dog through chemo even if I could afford it because I don't think that's fair to do to a creature that wouldn't understand the why of it all, but there is a chance (if this thing is, in fact, malignant) that it's isolated and removing the thing would be a cure. I'm not going to let a dog who's not even two yet NOT have at least a chance at that by getting this thing removed, and if it IS cancer then I guess we'll just love her until she's not having fun anymore.

*   The bad news, of course, is that we really can't afford surgery no matter how reasonable, especially in light of the money I just spent at Urgent Care and whatever the hell the MFA Minivan's problem is. 

*   Banfield Pet Hospital = assholes. Not only did they pretty much refuse to fax the cytology report to the surgeries-only place, but they also didn't bother calling me back with a treatment plan (I at least wanted to find out how much they'd charge to do the surgery there, if for no other reason than that it would console me somewhat if we end up saving a bundle).

*   I was going to cap ad sales when I'd filled up the immediately-visible portion of the left sidebar, but I'm willing to put up with my right-sidebar content (which you may have noticed I try to keep to me-only stuff) being displaced for a couple of months if anyone else would like to buy an ad. I need to raise at least $125 but ideally at least $225 by Monday, plus I'm in the hole for a co-pay and four prescriptions (at the very least; currently we are not even thinking about what the deal is with the MFA Minivan).

*   I hate to do this, but at this point I'm desperate and the trolls can rant all they like if it means I'm able to get my dog her surgery and still make rent this month: if you've even considered hitting up the Donate button, now would be a fabulous time (although I'd rather sell you an ad--as you can see, someone already took one out for a cause near and dear to their heart so you don't necessarily have to have a blog/Etsy shop/small business you want to promote--you can even gift a blogger you like with ad space, and if you want to play anonymous Santa for another blogger I'll play along). 

*   Thank you (yes, YOU), for the ad purchases, donations and other small helps, moral support, and just being here, reading this. If you're reading this, I appreciate you, and that's not even (just) the narcotics and steroids talking. Even if you're that uptight butthead at work who tried (and failed) to make my life suck just a little bit more by complaining about my big bad blog to The Powers That Be, your traffic has helped make this place more marketable to advertisers, so it's all good I guess. Imma get off the innernet before I burst into song and/or tears, but I love you guysh.

Turd Thursday

*   Seventeen-hour day today.

*   New Weekend Warrior Job? Is going bust like Old Weekend Warrior Job did. Eff me in the a. This almost makes me feel like I should quit Fairy Sweatshop Job, just because I really like Fairy Sweatshop Boss and want her business to remain solvent, and apparently I am a curse.

*   AND I got paid today, by New Weekend Warrior Job, and you'll never guess what they did. OH YES, THEY FUCKED UP MY PAYCHECK, BECAUSE IT IS NOT ONLY MARDI GRAS WEEK, IT IS "FUCK WITH MFA MAMA'S MONEY WEEK!"

*   And then I got a(nother) ticket on the way home at a traffic stop/sobriety check, for the expired registration I haven't had the time or money to take care of, which really completed me.

*   I have to be up in less than five hours for work, so I'll go to bed, but I don't mind telling you I am scared of what tomorrow will bring. Yesterday took 20% of my weekly paycheck. Today shorted me eight hours and let me know I'm getting laid off from my secondary job soon (plus gave me a ticket). What is tomorrow going to do, come to my house and kick my dog? Sheeeeyit.

*   How are all of you doing? Tell me a funny. I could really use a laugh.

Ass Wednesday

*   There is nothing quite like finding out you've been fucking ROBBED before 6 a.m. to start your day off shitty. Well okay, not technically robbed, but apparently Temp Agency #1 reset everyone's W-4 status to "single, no exemptions" as of Valentine's Day for who-knows-what-reason and I was supposed to know to refile my tax forms? I don't know. What I do know is that my paycheck this week was light by about 20%, which? UNACCEPTABLE.

*   Don't tell me I'll get it back next April, because I won't. The Department of Education will get it next April. I think this is part of why I was so deeply unhappy about the whole thing (aside from the whole "money snatched from my pocket while attempting to save up for badly-needed medical care for my husband" bit); it reminded me that I suck and am a loser.

*   Speaking of things that suck, why the buggery FUCK doesn't Medicare cover preventive dental care for transplant recipients, anyway? I get that a lot of dental work can be considered cosmetic, and that technically one can get by without teeth, but here's the thing: in an immunocompromised person a dental infection can kill. There is nothing optional about getting the very worst of what's wrong with Hotter's mouth fixed, and Medicare isn't even saving Uncle Sam any money by not covering this stuff, because I'm guessing not a lot of single transplant recipients go on to marry people who are willing to work their ass off and handle this shit. Which means that some of those who are even more fucked than Hotter is end up getting infections, which if they are too poor to have broken teeth extracted and cavities filled and already scrambling to cover their 20% of the medications they need to take every day to not DIE they probably aren't going to go in for right away. When they end up septic Medicare then covers their ambulance trip, their ER bed, their emergency oral surgery and week of IV antibiotics, their echocardiogram to see if they have vegetation on their heart valves, their maintenance meds and ICU bed, and whatever else they need while they're in-patient (and taking a transplant patient to the hospital is like taking a teenaged car to the mechanic--you may go in with a specific goal in mind but they WILL find more work to do while you're there). And all of that for the unfortunate few? Costs a HELL of a lot more than two cleanings and a set of x-rays every year for everybody, even if those DO reveal the need for a few fillings and maybe an extraction or two. /soapbox

*   So I had kind of a crappy day, but it wasn't entirely without merit. For one thing, today I wore a new scarf (this scarf was the last frivolous thing I bought before money went utterly to hell again) that thrills me to the very core for two reasons. First, it's a fabulous scarf (half silk, half pashmina, butter-soft and utterly gorgeous). And second, it was an AMAZING deal ($9.99, free shipping, 1% cash back).

*   Speaking of deals, this free app gave me a sick little thrill earlier today. It's designed to help you find the cheapest gas around, but that's not what I use it for. I already know that Big Box Membership Store will have the cheapest gas around and so unless I have some fuel points from Local Grocery Store to use elsewhere I just buy gas there. No, I use GasBuddy to GLOAT. Yesterday I paid $3.36/gallon for gas at Big Box Membership Store and today that same gas (from the same place) is $3.42/gallon!!! So I saved a little over a dollar by filling the MFA Minivan up yesterday on my way home instead of waiting until today. WHOO TITS!

*   Also my dog is crazy-cute:

Figure One: Of *course* I mean Isis. Bumpus? IS NO DOG OF MINE! He's on his second psych med now; the first one didn't work and while on it he ate a door. I love how Isis does the homie lean, or maybe she's just trying to get AWAY from Bumpus (actually they are the best of friends, which is one of the only two reasons Bumpus still draws breath under my roof, the other one being that so far the cost of the therapy Big Child would need if I got rid of the stupid dog still outweighs what we'll lose of our security deposit thanks to his crazypants antics).

*   And then a sweet friend did something incredibly kind that really raised my spirits. I don't know if she'd be okay with my saying what she did, exactly, or naming her, but I really needed something to cheer my sorry ass up, and this did the job. 

*   I am off to bed, because tomorrow is a seventeen-hour day. Ooof. God, I hate money.

TGIF

*   I wish I could tell y'all more about my job. Because I really, really enjoy what I am doing professionally right now. It's...fulfilling. I'm optimistic about where the work I am doing with various parties will lead for all of us involved in the future and that? IS SUPER EXCITING! Unfortunately, as always, the presence of unfriendly eyeballs reading puts a damper on my saying anything any more specific. Which is killing me, because if I had known this kind of work existed in a corporate setting decades ago it is probably what I would have wanted to do when I grew up once I ditched my plans to become a cowgirl. The only way this could be any better is if I was doing pretty much the exact same thing for a multi-billion-dollar BABY ANIMAL STORE. 

*   My health is doing some things. Nothing doctor-worthy unless it gets much worse, but ughhh. I so need to lose weight (ummyes, I haven't updated the ticker in over a week and it's...wrong). 

*   Tomorrow the XY is actually taking some non court-awarded time with his progeny (as in that happens less than once per quarter, and not for lack of offering/permitting on my part, so golfclaps for the XY) and Hotter and I are attending a beekeeping class. THIS IS EXCITING!

*   OMG I HAVE TO BUY A MOTHERFUCKING BEEHIVE. Also? I CANNOT WAIT TO ENTER THAT INTO OUR FINANCIAL MANAGEMENT PROGRAM. Sorry. I get yelly when I talk about the bees. 

*   The rabbits are surly and attitudinal. I think they're going through rabbit puberty or something. I hope they come out more likable than this on the other side, because it's not a good look.

*   Gas prices. What the hell, gas prices? I so, so, so wish I could afford a smaller, more fuel-efficient (or OH GOD A HYBRID but I'm trying to keep this quasi-realistic) vehicle, at least for me to drive to and from work if not of a size that could replace the MFA Minivan. Sometime this year she's going to cross 200k miles, and...well. I'm hoping bringing in a younger vehicle would perk the old girl up, y'know? Because for all her faults, she can at least drive reasonably well in ice and snow and fit our entire family including pets and/or a flock of poultry.

*   OH! I almost forgot, speaking of the MFA Minivan? It has been making a squealing belt noise for well over a month now...I have had multiple belt-type repairs (belt, belt pulley, belt TENSIONER) done on the thing, and I know what a belt noise sounds like. MFA Mechanic's crew, however, say that it cannot be a belt, they do not see an issue, and what KIND of noise was it, actually? And then I say birds tweeting and they say "quit thowin' birdseed on the hood! BWAHAHAHAHA!" and I say it only does it when it's cold and they say they had it up on the lift long enough that it was plenty cool. Aaaaanyway, this morning I and my terminal degree and my iPhone recorded the thing in action and I am looking so forward to playing this footage for those jerkfaces that I'm doing a pretty good job of not speculating how much this'll cost me...

*   How are all of YOU?

work/life

*   I went into the office at 6 a.m., brought my work laptop home so I can work up until getting into the dentist's chair tomorrow, had homemade spinach/artichoke/cheese dip and wine for dinner plus fabulous sex and am STILL kind of worried about my newest active work-project (of which, suddenly, there are like FOUR). Y'all, suddenly I am kind of a big deal. I have already had meetings--MEETINGS!--with five people this week. That is no exaggeration, FIVE PEOPLE. HOUR-LONG MEETINGS. TO DISCUSS PROJECTS I AM WORKING ON AND OMG HOW DID THIS HAPPEN I HAVE A CUBICLE AND A BOX OF TISSUES AND EVERYTHING. Sorry, sometimes I get like that when I try to mentally cram my sense of self into corporate America. Because it's so wrong, but also? Because increasingly it's not that hard and I even feel kind of fond of good old PseudoCorp. MY GOD DO THEY PUT IT IN THE BREAKROOM COFFEE???

*   I effed up with Fairy Sweatshop Job. Or rather, I apparently misread handwriting on a card, but this is clearly me and my stupid eyes at fault here, and OMG LOST IN THE MAILNESS. My one consolation is that I think Fairy Sweatshop boss had planned on the work taking me longer than it did, so MAYBE she won't give up on me entirely if my work doesn't UTTERLY suck (not gonna lie, I think a few widgets I blew entirely, but no more than 5% of them). I am kind of gutted about that. I really liked the work, dammit! Now if I no longer have a job Imma have to troll Etsy looking for someone else to subsidize my sparkly new hobby.

*   I dunno y'all, I feel really good about my career-ish stuff right now, so why am I not happier? I feel like I need to hurry up and replenish our savings, expand our garden for the coming growing season, build this and fix that and what the hell? Is this an early midlife crisis? Meanwhile I think Hotter is feeling isolated and lonely at home without me and I hate that, although if I wasn't working where I'm working I'd be working somewhere else...I dunno.

*   This morning my life passed before my eyes. A quart-jar of water kefir broke in my work-bag (which would be bad enough, the loss of the water kefir and the big canning jar and the BlogHer '10 swag-bag, but AFTER tipping the worst of it out onto the floor of the parking structure and putting it in the minivan and sighing and going about my day, AFTER getting halfway into my work, I realized THE PRECIOUS WAS IN THAT BAG. I raced back downstairs, yanked the minivan door open, fished the dripping OtterBox out of the wreckage, brushed the glass off it, and tore it off The Precious and...she was fine. SHE IS OKAY, PEOPLE! OtterBox, come here and let me hold you...

*   How are all of YOU?

the one where I love y'all more than I hate Typepad mobile

Wow, I can't believe I went so long between posts! Turns out writing and stretching the paltry limits of one's image-editing skills eight hours a day for a LIVING is detrimental to one's blogging mojo. I was busy this weekend, too, doing things for Fairy Sweatshop Job and frowning at Hotter (who is going through male menopause or possibly having a midlife crisis? I dunno, whatever it's called when they turn into lazy, surly, horny assholes but they're too old for it to be puberty), but yesterday was less crazy. This morning, however, when I was on my way to work in the dark an hour early, The MFA Minivan elected to blow a bulb over the license plate in spectacular fashion while an officer of the law was behind us. And after he pulled me over and told me how effed up it had been I remembered that THAT, unlike the work-stuff and most of the relationship stuff, is perfectly FINE to tell the innernets, because even the pettiest former co-worker or ex-husband alive can't do anything except laugh at THAT bullshit. So there it is: and how are all of YOU?

crappy anniversary to meeee!

*   MFA Landlord, when Hotter e-mailed him to ask about a new lease, voiced his intention to raise the rent by a hundred a month. Which...well, if it was JUST that it wouldn't QUITE break us, but with that AND my health insurance going up AND the MFA Minivan being, unexorably, drifting away toward The Big Junkyard In The Sky...no. So our lease is up at the end of the month, and we may have to move. We'll see. The house clearly wants us to stay, being as it's unsaleable without $20k in septic system renovations, tiny, possessed of only one bathroom (in need of tilework), drafty, reminiscent of nothing so much as a brick shoebox, and in a very odd little neighborhood. To rent it out to anyone else the landlord would have to paint the entire interior, fix the bathroom up, repair a few other miscellaneous things, and generally spend at least one month of vacancy sprucing it up. And realistically he's not likely to get any more for it than we're already paying. So there's that. We've countered with "well in that case can we have three months at the old rent amount to find a new place to live; we wanted to stay but can't afford (another) rent increase, plus you promised us there would not be one." We'll see, I guess. I am Very Worried and also bitter as when this news came I was moments away from clicking "confirm purchase" on seeds and other supplies for this year's garden. Balllls.

*   But that's not all! Apparently PseudoCorp told me the truth in the interview about my position being temporary. Which means that either they weren't truthful with Temp Agency #1 or else Temp Agency #1 was overly optimistic when they described the job to me as being temp-to-hire (I have no way of knowing which it was and would be maligning an entity that has helped to feed my family if I ventured a guess either way, so I will refrain from verging into conjecture; either way it sucks). Apparently now that they've hired someone for a key position, The One Who Dislikes Me (who has been downright decent lately...all in all there are much worse people to work with and if my next job is with a bunch of lazy cretins I know I will miss her quiet and innocuous competence) will go back to doing the job I've been doing, and I will be going the way of the dodo. Sigh. There are three potential rays of hope that I am trying to cling to right now or I'd be a total basketcase: first, the co-worker who is on the way to becoming a friend may have a lead on a permanent position within the company that I'd be suited to, second, there was mention of another department within the company needing a temp (said department has one of those incomprehensible corporate-speak names that tells me NOTHING about what they actually do, so I dunno whether I'd be qualified or even able to fake it convincingly just yet) and I'd have a leg up in that I already know a lot about the company, know people's names and positions, and have a badge and a parking pass, and third, Temp Agency #1 might have something for me (they're looking--I expressed my dismay to them about the situation and they were apologetic). I've also been scouring local job postings and there's at least ONE full-time with-benefits position listed currently that I think I'd be qualified for. Which is approximately 100% more than there's been in weeks. 

*   I can't really tolerate even thinking too hard about being potentially jobless and homeless by the end of the month, because it will break me, so let's not discuss either of those possibilities any further. The landlord will surely be reasonable and I will find something. That is how it HAS to work out. SO LET IT BE WRITTEN, SO FUCKING WELL LET IT BE DONE.

*   It's Hotter's and my second anniversary today. Things could be a whole lot better in our lives right now, but the marriage itself is still a great big win and as I told him earlier today, "there is no one else I would rather be co-piloting this flaming shitshow of a plane with besides you." He made this for dinner and it was fabulous. So at least there's that.

*   How are all of YOU?

the one where I'm a little bit broken

*   I kind of fell off the exercise/weightloss train. This is partly due to injuries (two stress fractures and an honest-to-goodness broke-mah-leg fracture make it THAT MUCH HARDER to get off one's ass, apparently) and partly due to the Livestrong.com app update (holy suck, Batman--it was so wonderful and user-friendly and now it's...NOT)...Livestrong has been texting me all "you haven't tracked today!" and I've been all "BECAUSE YOU SUCK." I think I also got discouraged by all the yo-yoing around my weight was doing from the infection/antibiotics b.s. (I've been honest about updating the widget, so if you've been paying attention to that then you know what I mean).

*   I have a migraine. This makes me unhappy because I got my tooth fixed and therefore, in my mind, the migraines should be GONE. But not so much, it seems. I'm thinking stress is to blame, maybe? I'd prefer that to "YOUR AUTOIMMUNE SHIT IS BACK AND YOU'RE GOING TO DIE, WELL OKAY NOT REALLY YOU'RE JUST GOING TO WISH YOU WERE DEAD."

*   Other than the migraines I don't have any signs of a flare, so probably it IS stress-related.

*   Speaking of stress, OH MAH GAH MONEY. It's not, I guess I should clarify, that we won't actually make rent thanks to the XY stiffing me, so much as that in ORDER to make rent I have to not pay my insurance premium on time, and once we're in the cycle of playing catch-up one of the plates up on the spinning sticks is going to fall sooner or later, and none of them are ones we can afford to break (if my insurance lapses I lose the year I've put into the eighteen-month waiting period for dental to cover me again, and if the power bill lapses they boot us off the budget plan again just as it's getting really cold outside, and if we don't get Hotter's antirejection meds he dies and if I don't get MY various meds I can't work and the minivan is making an ominous sound again and JUST FUCKING SHOOT ME, OKAY?). I somehow need to not worry about this so much since I'm doing absolutely everything possible to improve things, and have tried telling myself that we've always managed to get by SOMEhow thus far and therefore will this time, too, but in thinking of how very ugly that has occasionally been it's cold comfort.

*   I guess all I can really do about this is to keep plugging along and try to take good care of myself (I have, at least, been making good nutritional choices, not eating crap; when I say "fell off the weightloss train" I mean that I'm taking in more calories than I should be in order to shed the blubber...and I've been good about taking my various supplements that should be helping me feel as good as I possibly can right now). 

*   How are all of YOU?

2011 is fired

*   This morning my tooth what lost the filling started to ache rather menacingly (my dentist's office has been closed since it happened, although I was worried enough to page him this morning) (he called back within five minutes and was actually going to meet me at the office to have a look until I mentioned that I was already on a strong antibiotic, at which point he said since the office is reopening tomorrow he'd just phone in some Vicodin and see me then--I wish all of the MDs we deal with were as accessible, compassionate, and all-around fabulous as my dentist).

*   There was An Incident at work that led to my having to move my lunch hour around in order to talk to the legal department (I am not in any danger or trouble and it is nothing to do with Stalky, I just happened to be the lucky person who fielded a bizarre and slightly disturbing phone call).

*   THEN just as I left work the MFA Minivan took a (noisy, terrifying) shit on me to the tune of my entire paycheck for this week (serpentine belts and their associated tensioners are Of The Devil, as their name implies). Which wouldn't be such a big deal except that probably my dentist will want to be paid for his work tomorrow and I don't think I can wait on getting the filling replaced without ending up needing a root canal.

*   My leg was KILLING me today (past tense due to the Vicodin), and even if I WOULD feel like an asshole going to a doctor now I wish I could afford to just to make SURE I'm not ignoring something that'll cause lasting damage.

*   Aaaaand finally, when I got home from work and the mechanic and the pharmacy Hotter got his bitchface on because I took a Vicodin and he'd wanted me to go to the store for something first (he has since apologized). And I? Was so pissed off and achy and utterly defeated by today that I cried. I hate crying.