And what did we learn today, kids?
Apr. 21st, 2006 08:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysobelleDon't leave ribbon on the floor. Don't leave thread, string, plastic, long bits of fabric, or pencils on the floor, either-- but especially ribbon.
I neglected to tell![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snugglyevil this vital fact when she was industriously rending caitriona27's corset Jackie O'Lantern limb from limb. Later, I put the pile of dead ribbon to rest, but I apparently missed a piece.
Tekiah found it.
I'm sure one day, I'll look back, and this will all be funny. At the moment, however, that particular point of view is obscured by an estimated medical bill of-- wait for it-- $1,800.00. The doctor who performed the emergency operation on her at 5pm today said she had to make six different incisions in her intestines to remove a piece of "something" that stretched from her stomach back to her colon. If we'd waited much longer, it most likely would have perforated her intestines, and she would most likely have died. Fairly messily. As it is, she vomited bile in several spots in the apartment, and left ugly spills of bloody urine elsewhere. I found one of the latter on the bathroom floor this morning, but was unable to determine whence it came. Whenfoxglove_8778 sent me a text message this morning from my apartment saying, "I don't think Tekiah feels well," I was worried. Then she sent a photo from her phone showing her sitting on my couch with Tekiah lying limply beside her. I knew.
Going downstairs at the Cat Hospital and seeing her flat out on a counter with an oxygen tube at her nose was excruciating. It was impossible not to remember seeing Kayli exactly like that at Penn, just before she died. It was an image I'd mercifully let slip these last few years. And one I really could have done without seeing again. The difference this time, of course, was the lashing feline tail, and the slight opening of the eyes saying, "I'd take your arm off if I were feeling just a little better."
She came through the surgery very well, and will most likely come home tomorrow. Dr. Simpson couldn't tell me exactly what it was that she'd taken from Tekiah's innards: "Something long and blueish/blackish/greenish...?" When we finally arrived back home without her, I moved a pillow on the floor, and came across a tattered, crunched, chewed piece of organdy ribbon: sickly glittering with dried cat spit. I just sighed.
$1,800.00 for a 39-cent piece of organdy. Right before the trip to London that'd already drained most of my savings, and for which I'd so carefully planned.
She'd better appreciate this.
But I know she won't.
Wretched, rotten, stupid, gorgeous cat.
I neglected to tell
snugglyevil this vital fact when she was industriously rending caitriona27's corset Jackie O'Lantern limb from limb. Later, I put the pile of dead ribbon to rest, but I apparently missed a piece.Tekiah found it.
I'm sure one day, I'll look back, and this will all be funny. At the moment, however, that particular point of view is obscured by an estimated medical bill of-- wait for it-- $1,800.00. The doctor who performed the emergency operation on her at 5pm today said she had to make six different incisions in her intestines to remove a piece of "something" that stretched from her stomach back to her colon. If we'd waited much longer, it most likely would have perforated her intestines, and she would most likely have died. Fairly messily. As it is, she vomited bile in several spots in the apartment, and left ugly spills of bloody urine elsewhere. I found one of the latter on the bathroom floor this morning, but was unable to determine whence it came. When
foxglove_8778 sent me a text message this morning from my apartment saying, "I don't think Tekiah feels well," I was worried. Then she sent a photo from her phone showing her sitting on my couch with Tekiah lying limply beside her. I knew.Going downstairs at the Cat Hospital and seeing her flat out on a counter with an oxygen tube at her nose was excruciating. It was impossible not to remember seeing Kayli exactly like that at Penn, just before she died. It was an image I'd mercifully let slip these last few years. And one I really could have done without seeing again. The difference this time, of course, was the lashing feline tail, and the slight opening of the eyes saying, "I'd take your arm off if I were feeling just a little better."
She came through the surgery very well, and will most likely come home tomorrow. Dr. Simpson couldn't tell me exactly what it was that she'd taken from Tekiah's innards: "Something long and blueish/blackish/greenish...?" When we finally arrived back home without her, I moved a pillow on the floor, and came across a tattered, crunched, chewed piece of organdy ribbon: sickly glittering with dried cat spit. I just sighed.
$1,800.00 for a 39-cent piece of organdy. Right before the trip to London that'd already drained most of my savings, and for which I'd so carefully planned.
She'd better appreciate this.
But I know she won't.
Wretched, rotten, stupid, gorgeous cat.