Test Transmission

Found this DRAFT post from Jul 5, 2015 (yes really) which seems handy to use as a test message to check if my auto-email delivery feature still works (you know who you are). If you receive it, please reply to my gmail account. For all I know, I don't even have your correct e-mail addresses any longer!

Real life is currently like a freakish trip to Man In The High Castle territory, so let us move onto a more cheerful topic. Namely, Amelia! (BTW, that previous link to a UK newspaper's Dec. 16, 2016 article has spoilers for S2).

Amelia is a fluffy, affectionate, "medium-haired" cat, (now) approximately 4-1/2 years old, according to Animal Care Centers of NYC (rebranded from Animal Care & Control of NYC, i.e., the pound). She was surrendered by her former family when they moved to a no-pets building (those a**hats), along with her non-littermate sister Temperance. (Temperance was put to sleep the day after I adopted Amelia, unfortunately.) Now that we have moved back home from Mom's apartment (CeCeCat's home territory) both girls are getting along well, to my VAST relief.

Here are photos taken of Miss Fluffykins (a\k\a Fuzzy Mittens) in my home, shortly after her adoption on June 20, 2015.

And yes, at some point, we'll have a post devoted to CeCe's life history, all 2-1/2 years of it, including how she got her name.

Love & purrs, 

your local crazy cat lady

February Funk

So I started off February all revved up about posting often. As you can see by the dates between today's blather and the previous one, that didn't work out so well.

The red eyes are on my REALLY bad days

Instead, I spent most of the month like this.

It didn't help that most of February was a constant blur of frigid temperatures, snow, sleet, wintry mix, and fossilized snow. For pete's sake, The Weather Channel is up to Winter Storm Thor. THOR! It seemed like a nasty storm would blow in like clockwork every Sunday, triggering an emergency alert from the office every Monday. BLEH. (And that's NOT my imagination: tonight's weather report said that happened 7 out of the past 9 weekends.)

The first half of February was a blur of clearing the decks so that I could go in for my outpatient bilateral laparoscopic salpingo-oophorectomy on Valentine's Day (oh the irony). That's the formal medical name, since I certainly didn't need the highways to nowhere (i.e., my tubes), once my ovaries were gone.

My anesthesiologist at Sloan-Kettering was hilarious though. Upon meeting me in the pre-op waiting area, he (a) enlightened us as to the difference between general anesthesia and twilight sedation, [In general anesthesia, the machines are breathing for me. Luckily, I was unconscious before they put the respiratory tube down my throat. Yuck.] and (b) gave me a pop quiz:

Dr. A: [casually] So what'd you eat for breakfast?

Me: [promptly] NO!

Dr. A: Right answer! You get to go ahead with your procedure.

My awesome friend Marci accompanied me for the day, and made sure I made it home okay. She also kindly unearthed my bed, hidden under several sacks of clean -- yes, clean -- laundry.  (Sidenote: general anesthesia totally SUCKS! Found out that I am one of those folks who will totally barf if not given an anti-emetic. Plus, days of post-op lethargy. "Oh, I've been awake for all of 3 hours? Time to pass out again." [THUD...Zzzzz...])

So all that took more out of me than I expected.  But although I had President's Day off, and took the rest of the week off as well, my sister left for Florida that Wednesday, and so my brother-in-law dropped mom back off at her place.  I felt like a total rebel for not returning till Thursday night, whereupon I found out she had a terrible cold. That led to a fun few weeks.

Mmmm... crispy Peking duck burrito

I. Am. So. Tired.

SO tired.

It makes me super-cranky when at work (which mercifully, is NOT in the office, except once a week).

Luckily, I had planned some fun events for later in the month, like a belated Chinese New York banquet with my friends (Peking duck makes EVERYTHING better!)

[This is making me hungry...brief pause for dinner, a la realtime blogging like Pinky Guererro.]

Oops...that was an extremely long break, since I took time out to eat, watch THE WALKING DEAD (best not to combine the 2 activities), and then BATTLE CREEK (what can I say? I've always had a soft spot for Dean Winters, a\k\a The Mayhem Guy in the hilarious Allstate ads -- FYI: there are apparently 4-6 ads deemed too violent to air on TV. Dayum! SO wanna see those !)

Our view in Town Hall

Speaking of funny, I also went to see Craig Ferguson's standup show with as part of his Hot & Grumpy Tour, with my pals Jackie Blue and Marci. I needed a night of pure relaxation, where we were laughing until I was literally wiping tears from my eyes. He reminded me of Eddie Izzard in style, so we were all happy campers. And his opening act was Josh Robert Thompson, the voice of Geoff The Gay Robot from Craigy Ferg's LATE, LATE SHOW. (JRT does an absolutely uncanny impersonation of Morgan Freeman which had the audience in stitches, BTW.)


And along other disorienting thoughts -- besides a 40 year old white guy sounding like a 77 year old black man -- is the idea that my cat and I share a common trait: we've both been fixed.

Just because I decided years ago that I didn't want (human) children, doesn't mean it doesn't still leave me slightly bemused of being biologically incapable of having offspring. Also causing a "WHOA!" moment is the thought that if I ever have sex again (HA!) I will no longer need birth control. (Fear not: that doesn't mean no safe sex. I came of age during the discovery of AIDS, after all. But since the goal of all of this surgery is to leave me with no estrogen, I have ZERO libido.)  And I'm still wrapping my head around the concept of no more periods EVER. Never ever ever. HALLELUJAH! Once that fully sinks in, I will be doing my Snoopy impression.

Soooooo YES! (And I know I'm going to grammar hell for all of my double negatives.)

So yeah, I have a lot of major life changes going on that have yet to fully sink in.

And I have no idea of how I'm going to get out from under my current routine which leaves me a Super Cranky Squirrel, as most of my vacation days have been spoken for between a trip in July, and all of the medical appointments for Mom and myself. (Did I mention my sister is in Florida for the month?) The eldercare lawyer is going to put in a Medicaid application for Mom, in order for the potential to get some home care help, but that'll be months in the making.

(Related aside: I freaking HATE dealing with HSBC. They are the most unhelpful bank EVER. And I'm supposed to be a freaking Premier customer. Asshats. Despise them with a tired, dimly burning passion -- if I had more energy, it'd be the fire of a thousand suns, but as things stand, well...)

But I digress.

Have started seeing my therapist again this year (affectionately referred to as my Pearl of Wisdom), and she's helped me recognize that part of the reason I may be so exhausted -- besides the obvious one of having 2 full time jobs -- is that somewhere deep inside I am angry, and repressing all of that anger is very tiring exercise. Looking after my Mom is a labor of love, and I don't resent doing it, but I do feel like I'm paddling in the middle of the ocean with one oar.

I. Am. So. Tired.

TripleC is exhausted just thinking of everything I have to do.

Vocabulary Words

I have no idea what this trippy [though delightful] photo is,
 but clearly my iphone6 was awake at the wheel when I wasn't.

So my new favorite word of the year is oophorectomy (which I mentioned recently). Today was my pre-surgical testing day: bloodwork, EKG (ECG? the one where they tape electrodes to your pulse points), chest x-ray, lots and lots of medical questionnaires, etc. The anesthesiology nurse was interested to hear that I am really cheap date: after previous procedures, I'd wake up long after their estimates.

Medical Staff: [Ms. Squirrel] should be awake in about 45 minutes.

[Two hours later. . .] "Um . . . you may now join her in the recovery room."

There's some technical term for this, but of course, I've totally forgotten it, since I have truly sucky recall these days. (chemo brain + menopausal fog + stress = what did you say?) In any case, it's a genetic trait, since Squirrelmom and Squirrelsis are the same way -- the anesthesia, not the forgetfulness.

Say "HI!" to either Patience or Fortitude --
 I never know which NYPL lion is which.
In any case, I really need both of their qualities these days!

The red letter day will be February 14th (hee! loving the irony) since the surgeon only operates on Saturdays and that was the first slot (pun intended) available when I asked in January. I'll be under general anesthesia, but it will be a laparoscopic removal, so no giant incision (yay!) -- just 3 small ones instead.

We'll skip over the giant pre-op checklist they gave me, except to say that I agreed to donate an extra vial of blood towards research, a small enough way to pay it forward. [Squirrelsis and I were also taking care of paperwork at the bank today, so I had lots of practice following the "sign here . . . and here . . . and here" instructions.]

The 7 test tubes of blood also allowed me to rationalize a protein & iron-rich dinner at The Comfort of deviled eggs and fried chicken livers, washed down by 1911 hard cider and lots of water. Yep, gentrification of Grand Street on the Lower East Side is not all bad. (CeCeCat [a\k\a TripleC, a la my friend Sussi] also wins from the arrival of Pet Island II.)

As much as I love the 2 ladies pictured below, I am WILDLY EXCITED to have a few days off after my surgery: my sister is kidnapping Mom for a week, and my co-worker D. is thrilled to be catsitting the Pinball Pussycat again for that same week. (My incisions are going to be small, but they still won't appreciate a 7+ lb. cat trampolining off my belly.)

Another thing I am looking forward to? My chemically induced, super annoying, peri-menopause will be converted into a permanent, biological, post-menopausal state. SO YES!

Snugglebuddies: Squirrelmom, TripleC, and twice-repaired Monkey.

My stalwart friend Marci will be accompanying me to and from the procedure at Sloan-Kettering, and then I will only have to use 4 PTO days after the Presidents' Day holiday to get a whole week off ( or 9 days, if you count the weekends and outpatient operation day itself).

Now I only have to get through 8 more workdays before I have a vacation. (Yes, my life is THAT thrilling, such that recovering from a medical procedure counts as decadent idleness!) So I'd better get to sleep before I snarl and bite someone's head off in the morning conference call.

Note to self: This had better NOT be my Out Loud Voice!

Resolutions, Resurrection & Recap

Yes, it is I, Sesame Squirrel and I am still alive, after a blogging hiatus of over a year. And it's been an eventful year.  So I'm tired (pretty much all the time) and going to cheat by using my holiday newsletter as my first post, but since one of my goals is to write more this year -- and not just in 140 character bursts -- I figured a start is better than waiting.  

So here goes, and sorry for the redux for those of you who've read my babblings already. I've added some more details though, since it doesn't have to fit on one side of a sheet of paper.

Recap

(because I think in bullet points)

• Jan - Life was good, and I went to Boston (Hi, Tam!) but I had ennui. Silly squirrel.
• Feb - Lifelong non-smoker Mom was admitted to Roosevelt Hospital & diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer: both lungs and part of her ribs ( Stage IV NSCLC )
• Mar - My cat Emily and I moved in with Mom full-time. Luckily, I already work from home 4 days/week, so I simply migrate my laptop back to the same desk I had when I was 10 years old.  Emmy becomes Squirrelmom's gateway cat.  Her serene nature -- and fondness for quality lap time -- endeared her to my formerly pet-free mother.
• Apr - Mom has an MRI which mercifully shows that the cancer has NOT metastastisized to her brain. HALLELUJAH!  Postpone long-planned trip to Holland to visit friend (Hi, Collinda!). Mom’s oncologist adjusts dosage of her chemo pill downward, reducing some side nasty effects. HALLELUJAH! However, the painkillers, chemo, and her general age [did I mention she's very hard of hearing?] make for total forgetfulness.  On the bright side, Squirrelmom has basically morphed into a very sweet (but alas, stubborn) 84 year old toddler. HALLELUJAH!  
• May - blur - monthly visit with Mom's onco - tired
• Jun - blur - monthly visit with Mom's onco - more tired
• July - blur - monthly visit with Mom's onco - even more tired; officially promoted for the first time at work, after 10 years there (yes, TEN years!)
• Aug - Emily diagnosed with lymphoma in her skull. We now each have our own oncologist: Mom, Emmy, and moi. BOO! HISS! 
• Sep - I reach critical mass (i.e., melt down); Sis kidnaps Mom for a few days while I say goodbye to Emily before she is put to sleep on Sept. 5^th. Sis re-kidnaps Mom for 2 weeks when I go on business trip to DC (Hi, Amy! Hi, Lori & Tom!) starting Sept. 27^th and then my trip to NL.
  
• Oct - Finally on delayed trip to Dutch countryside (Hi again, Collinda!) for a much needed weeklong rest cure. Amuse friends by endless city girl glee over cows, sheep, and horses scattered everywhere we drive. Be awed by the marzipan-squirrel, hazelnut mousse, caramel, and yellow cake Collinda and her sister make to welcome me to their beautiful homeland. Eat stroopwafels. Bring home CeCe the wonder kitten*, who was abandoned at eye-vet friends’ office. (Hi, Jane & Jim!) We estimate she is about 2 months old.
• Nov - Go on a long weekend to the CrimeBake (Hi Barbara!) crime fiction conference to see pals (Hi Craig & Judy!) Mom’s oncologist finally takes her off Percocet after 9 months (!!!) and she is So. Much. More. Lucid. BOY HOWDY! Get into a routine where I come home (to my own apt.) overnight on Saturday for mail, sleep, FreshDirect deliveries (that I take to Mom), and metaphorical Calgon time. Sis kidnaps Mom for almost a week at Thanksgiving. HALLELUJAH!  So. Tired.
• Dec - Meet with Sloan-Kettering docs to discuss my treatment options for years 6-10 post-breast cancer. Yup, more drugs & (laparoscopic) surgery lie in my future. Specifically, I'll be having an oophorectomy on Valentine's Day (oh the irony).

Things I Learned Last Year

(usually from Mom or one of my cats)

• Sleep when you can - Emily had the right idea.(Hi again, Craig and Judy!) If you had told me a year ago I’d be getting up before 6am and passing out by 9pm, I’d’ve told you to stop smoking crack, but an ailing parent and hyperactive kitten make for a whole new schedule. Now I know why parents of young children laugh when you ask what they've read lately. Heck, I don't even watch much TV anymore. Yes! ME!
• Prioritize - If it hasn’t fallen in the litter box, or there’s no sound of shattering glass, it can wait till morning. Corollary: can it wait till next Sat/forever?
• Everyone’s happier when they have a purpose - Well, at least in our family: I take care of Mom, and lose my asinine midlife crisis whininess. Mom checks on CeCe and starts talking about the future again (*see why I call her The Wonder Kitten?) Bonus: Mom has legit JOB now: play with CeCe so I can work and stay employed!
• Having an elderly parent who’s hard of hearing is not ALL bad - I don’t have to worry about waking up Mom with my endless shrieks while CeCe uses me as a human trampoline, while she learns to coordinate her ever growing limbs. (Also, Mom is smart: she has pretty much figured out what the English word “OW!” means, and nowadays, she has grown so blase about my sporadic yelps during the daytime that she merely asks,"Cat again?")
• Samsonite, taxis, Bactine and Neosporin are your friends - Plus, I am allergic to Johnson and Johnson brand band-aids!