Which is where I currently am. Nothing horrible, the boyfriend just had to get a tiny bit of spinal surgery done. Amazing what they can do these days. Just clip out the bad ol’ disc and pop in an artificial one! No worries.
There is, however, a lot of waiting. While this hospital seems to have everything operating like a well-oiled machine, there is still, nonetheless, a lot of waiting. Arrive 3 hours before surgery. 1 hour with anesthesiologist. 1.5 hours of actual surgery. 1.5 hours of recovery from anesthesia. This is where I’m at now. Waiting for him to be brought up to his room. So much better than the surgery waiting room, which is pretty small and REALLY full of people. Especially when there is an entire Italian family waiting for one particular patient.
I prefer to wait alone. I’m not good at waiting. I’m impatient. I was never actually worried, because I do have a rather large amount of faith in modern medicine, plus I did an awful lot of research so I knew exactly what the risks were and the benefits and the procedure, all that junk. Granted, it’s easy for me to say since no one was cutting ME up, but the person being cut happens to be someone I love very much and would prefer to keep in one piece.
No, I’m just antsy. Give me a couch and a book and I’ll sit there all day, but give me the same book with an uncomfortable chair and tell me to read while I wait for something and it’s an entirely different story. So while everyone and their mother (literally) offered to keep me company, I declined. Antsy and impatient are much better alone.
But since this blog is about cats, I should probably tie that in somehow. Maybe if I could bring the kitties to entertain me while I wait. A cat-petting waiting room. Probably not very sanitary. I feel sanitary is really at the top of the list at a hospital. And as far as hospitals go, this one is pretty decent. Even got a black bean burger for lunch. But I’m probably going to have blood clots in my legs from sitting all day, because although they put some of those compression socks on the boyfriend to avoid blood clots, they do NOT pass those out to the waiters.
Pro tip of the day: bring your own. If there is ever a next time, I will know to do that. But I’ll still leave the furry sons at home. No smuggling.
I finally did it.
I bought a cat tree.
I’ve shared this fact with a few non-cat people, and their response is: “HA HA HA HA That’s a f*$#ing waste of money, you FOOL! You could MAKE that!”
Well, DUH. I’ve been saying this forever. And what HASN’T happened yet? It hasn’t been made. Which is precisely why I’ve waited until my cats are almost 5 and 3 years old to buy one. My poor, deprived kitties. All because Mommy is too freakin’ stubborn to go against her DIY ego and buy one. There’s also the fact that the nice ones are kind of expensive, and I’ve never really found one I liked. But I found one. Yeah, it’s a little more expensive than the traditional carpet-y ones, but it’s nice. It’s not AS nice as the ones I wrote about before, but it’ll do. Before I put the ol’ credit card number into the interwebz, I did way more research just to see if I could possibly find another one that I’d like better. Because it’s always my luck that as soon as I buy something, I find one much, much better. The only ones I found were, again, way out of my price range. Like this one from Urban Cat Design (in the NETHERLANDS):
So I bought the one that I talked about buying recently, the one that was reasonably priced compared to the ones I LOVED but couldn’t possibly justify spending so much money on. AND…this lady never buys anything on the interwebz without a coupon. So I got free shipping and $20 off to boot. Uh huh. I’m an awesome bargain hunter on expensive things. Like the $160 boots I got for $40. I really thought that one had to be a scam, but the boots are fabulous.
Now I wait. Because it’s coming from California. If I hadn’t held off for so long, I might have it this weekend to put together, but the boys are going to have to wait for next weekend, since I rarely have time or energy during the work week. Oh well. Moosh has been entertaining himself just fine with the silver ball of sparkles that are mostly strewn around the floor right now and I really should take away from him because Taco will eat the sparkles. Taco has a, um, sensitive butt, to put it nicely. The sparkles make it bleed a lil. Not serious, but unnerving. It’s so unfortunate because it literally is the ONLY toy that Moosh will play with, and he plays with it SO enthusiastically. Kitty mom is conflicted. Meh.
Kitty mommy problems, whatcha gonna do? Ooh, another rap song. Bam.