First: All good thoughts for bonny and Bartleby.
I loved your introspective ramble, Maria. Just lovely.
I inherited a coat from a cousin that fit me like a dream, and had a lining of color-shift satin that I would have worn against naked skin. The coat felt amazing on and was warm as could be. Unfortunately it was a ghastly color somewhere between mud and eggplant that I just couldn't stand. I did inquire about having it dyed, but the cost was prohibitive. I mourned the surrender of that coat to someone else, but I knew I'd never wear it in public.
H's dad was a concert tenor and violist in Ukraine. When he, his bride and baby H survived the DP camp in Augsburg, got a sponsor and were allowed to come to the US, his first work was farm labor--which he knew nothing about. He left that for the steel mill because it paid better. He did eventually find more stimulating work as a mechanic, and then as a machinist-designer. My MiL worked piecework in a dress factory--they traded off shifts so somebody would always be home with the kids.
FiL watched two of the guys hired the same day as him rise through the ranks to executive positions--they weren't smarter, in fact the reverse was often true. The difference was, FiL spoke with an accent. A lot of people equate that with a lack of understanding, and that, with a lack of intelligence. People can be dumb.
So possibly allergies. Mine are way different in Spring and Fall. I hope you find some relief quickly.
Going to get Claritin after work. Come on, antihistamines!
FiL spoke with an accent. A lot of people equate that with a lack of understanding, and that, with a lack of intelligence. People can be dumb.
That sets me off like nothing else can. Jackasses will still come into the restaurant and tell my father to go back where he came from, because he can't speak English properly. Or they do the slow talking--with the raised voice (he's neither deaf nor dumb, assmonkey)--and then huff and puff because they actually have to pay attention to his response if only because they aren't used to hearing his accent.
One time, maybe 5 years or so ago, a drunk came in and wanted to buy a six-pack to go. We can't sell alcohol to a visibly intoxicated person, and he took offense. He took greater offense that someone with an accent told him this, and began ranting that he was going to call ICE (though he said INS) and have my father deported. I saw red, and went off. Ballistic is too tame. I was thisclose to kicking his ass, but I settled for a few choice words and serving him with a letter of trespass that bars him from ever setting foot on our property again. Now those words weren't all that polite, but oh boy were they warranted.
Many thanks for all the kind thoughts. I wish I could say that things went better.
I was told that if I arrived by 7:30, Bartleby would be 'early in the schedule.' I just got home. We left the hospital at 4:30.
When they brought him out to me, I nearly went ballistic.
They removed the wrong growth on his back.
Seriously, folks? I showed you two small masses to excise. You couldn't mark them with a damned dot?
The vet spluttered, "Oh, it would be better for his recovery if we do the right on now, or I could see him again next week. At no charge, of course."
You think?
He's whimpering in pain, he's frantic over seeing me after all this stress of the day and you'd like to take him away again for more...unsedated...pain. OH, you are doing it for free? Well, okay then!
Thank goodness I had our friend M drop us off and retrieve us. I had to go outside before I did damage.
His eye looks terrible, but that was expected.
The one bright spot is that, while they were extracting the broken tooth, they noticed another was diseased and took that one too.
All I ate all day was a half handful of peanuts and I didn't get much sleep. I'm massively fractured and upset.
It will pass now that we are home, but it has been a bitch of a day.
Again, thanks for the good thoughts. He's so unhappy, disoritented and drugged, but he is alive and in his little bed, so life is fine.
What a day of suckitude, bonny. I'm sorry you and Bartleby had to go through all that. But I'm glad he's home with you now.
Tep, go Team Claritin! I hope it works for you.
Welcome back, Erin. Much recuperation~ma to you.
bonny, I'm sorry about the whole day. I swear it's something in the air.
ION:
My workplace wants me to pay over $600 to them for my medical insurance for October and November, as well as my life insurance, and short and log term disability. Oh, and I have no income, because the short-term disability people are still "investigating" if I had a pre-existing condition, so no $$.
Not sure where I can get a spare $600, unless a buyer comes along for the Grand Am, and soon.
So glad Bartleby is doing well,sorry about what you had to go through.
My day has sucked in a small way. Nosebleed last night interrupted my sleep, then had a really bad one this aftertoon. The nosebleed itself was no so bad - I know how to deal with it, though it is a bit tedious. But afterwords the bathroom looked like a horror movie. I had to clean blood off the mirror,three walls, the floor,and of course me. real PITA.
