Month: March 2011

But still not quite well.  I managed to go to work for most of the week and actually spent the whole day there yesterday.  On Thursday I felt like I had turned the corner but on Friday I actually felt a little worse.  Still had enough energy to work the whole day, grocery shop, and cook dinner.

Today I feel about the same as yesterday: enough energy to do what needs to be done but not for much extra.  I hope to get out for an easy ski tour tomorrow.  I'm planning for a lot of coughing and not much stamina.  I hope it's worth the drive to get to snow, and probably lousy snow at that.  We're in that spring transition period, alternating between nice enough weather for yard work but plenty of snow for skiing.

This bug is a bugger.  If you get it, let it have its way with you so you can hopefully get on with your life without relapse.  That's what I'm hoping for, in spite of feeling rather impatient at this stage.

Recently I tempted fate (twice) by bragging that I hadn't been sick in a number of years when my mom complained that she was sick for the third time this season.  Then I got a sore throat, a mild one, but I stayed home to be sure.  It went away and I got on with my life.

Then (you'd think I'd learn) I was having a friendly debate with someone about vaccines, particularly the annual flu vaccine.  Again, I bragged about not getting sick for years, except for mild things that kept me out for a single day, because I get the flu shot.

Let's see, three days later I felt this irritation deep in my chest, like I had smoker's cough.  I worried a little but went to work anyway, thinking I'd feel better once I got moving around.  Um, no.  It got worse.  My supervisor suggested that I go home for the rest of the day.  I did and napped, thinking it would pass.  That night, the congestion moved in.  I slept in the other room, practically sitting up.

The next morning I got up, only to lie on the sofa and sleep until 3:00 p.m.  My head ached, my bones ached, I had a fever.  My cat wouldn't leave me alone.  I'm pretty sure she was convinced I was dying.  I barely had an appetite.  Coughing pained me deeply.  I thought I was dying.  The dog didn't care.  She just wanted to know why I was prone and not taking her for a walk or something.  I sweated through a bowl of soup for dinner.  Taking off a blanket meant shivering.  Ibuprofen, cough syrup, and Theraflu were my closest companions besides SisterCat who wouldn't let me die without her.  Randy took care of the dog and everything else but wisely kept his distance.

This morning I ached a little but it felt like a different ache.  It felt like stiffness from not moving.  And I was hungry, for real.  Coughing doesn't hurt.  I seem to be able to manage my own temperature.  SisterCat is convinced I'm alright so she hasn't bothered to try to sit on me.  If my cat is convinced I'm well, I'm convinced too.  And I do feel a whole lot better even though my voice is gone.  If a fever feels like death is next door, not having one feels like a resurrection.

 
SisterCat reposed on one of her favorite places.

SisterCat turned 14 yesterday, although I doubt she knows it or cares.  Her actual birthday is unknown but my best guess is that it's the beginning of March, based on her adoption date of sometime near the end of April.

SisterCat came from a very small town in northeastern California.  She's a Tulelake, CA cat and possibly the only remaining one living from that era and certainly the most well-traveled.

She was born to a black cat with a stub-tail.  This black cat was a floozy around town and happened to live at my neighbor's house.  All her offspring had stub tails.  Fortunately she had small litters.  In fact, Sister had only one littermate, another female, black, whom I adopted.  The littermate's name was Squeak as she had the tiniest meow.  Unfortunately Squeak met her demise on a lonely highway in Oregon when I was stationed at Diamond Lake Ranger Station on the Umpqua National Forest.  SisterCat became an indoors cat from that moment on.  I'm sure that saved her life and also kept her from bringing in "presents" of live snakes and birds larger than her small self.

The move from Tulelake, CA to Toketee, OR was Sister's first move about which she protested loudly the entire way, which was thankfully only a couple hours.  I didn't stay long in Toketee as I got a better job with Redwood National Park that same summer and moved to McKinleyville, CA.  Sister yowled about that from within her crate for the 5 or so hours it took to drive.

I was gone a lot, either to fire assignments or just to have fun on weekends, so I decided she needed a friend because when I'd return she'd let me know how much she missed me by demanding my lap and attention for hours.  I don't generally sit still for very long so this arrangement wasn't working for either of us.

Around Christmas I stopped by the Humboldt County Humane Society and picked out a tabby kitten who purred when I picked her up.  What's not to love?  I named her Lucy and got her spayed, after which she became the grumpiest kitty I've ever known.  Sister growled at Lucy every time Lucy tried to share a surface with her.  About the third day Sister alternately growled and groomed Lucy.  They were never as close as Sister and Squeak but she wasn't as lonely when I was gone.

Then I moved to SoCal.  Both Sister and Lucy protested but Sister eventually gave up.  I lived in one place for 5 whole years before moving again, this time all the way up to Washington, which was a two-day drive.  Yowling afresh.

More cats were adopted in Washington.  The countryside seems to have an unrelenting supply and I did my part by capturing and neutering.  Lucy, at 8 years old, developed kidney problems and died.  Meanwhile Artemis had moved in.  She insisted even though she was a barn cat, newly spayed.  She marched right into the open door just like she was invited to live indoors.  Tomas stayed outside until he tangled with a raccoon shortly after I moved to Anacortes.  I really did not want another indoor cat but after $500 of vet bills to repair his owies he moved in.

Randy and I put off moving in together because I had three cats and a dog and he had two cats but it was getting too inconvenient to not live together so we agreed to put up with all the animals.  Then one one of his cats developed kidney problems and died just before I moved in.

The dog and Sister and Randy's remaining cat, Blue, got along just fine.  Tomas was extremely unhappy so my good friend Pam adopted him.  Now Tomas is the king of Pam's castle and they're both happy.  I caught Artemis spraying so decided that she needed to be an only cat and after much angst gave her up to a no-kill animal shelter.  I hope she's found her happy home, is the Queen of her castle.

There's relative peace in the house among the people and animals.  SisterCat is on twice daily thyroid medication, which is unpleasant for both of us but is worth keeping her healthy and happy.  Blue appears to be healthy, although she's about the same age as Sister.  They won't live forever and the house will seem less hairy and quieter.  In the meantime I celebrate Sister's birthday and enjoy her fuzzy comfort.