Epiphany

I’m beginning to think some character traits skip a generation. My grandmother used to make up words for things and I do that pretty frequently. Although she used words like “crunkles” to describe crumbs on her clothes and I tend to say things like “son of a seabiscuit” when trying not to swear in front of small children. We both called underwear “bunders” and I am sure she had some made up words for vagina since I only heard her ever call a penis a “jaholacker”. 

My Dad and my daughter have a lot more similarities than my grandma and I ever did, but mislabeling things is definitely one of them. My dad called my husband to come over and help him install a “toilet topper” last week and my husband thought he needed help with the top of the toilet tank until they talked a little more and he realized it was the term my dad used for the cabinet that went above the toilet. Six months ago my daughter had asked to borrow a suit jacket and called it a suit topper. We have since called all blazers and suit jackets just that. She picks up a lot of weird little things from him, like eating unidentified food found in a couch cushion or using knives with no cutting board, but the vocabulary she picks up has to be my favorite. Those two are certainly cut from the same cloth.

*I wrote this while listening to some good old fashioned truth speakers – RATM.

 

State of the Union

This has been a hard week. Since the inauguration on Monday the majority of my therapy clients have been struggling with increased depression and anxiety, afraid for their future and the future of our country. Although working in mental health has been the most rewarding career I have had in my life, weeks like these can be challenging.

It doesn’t help that I wanted to see the news coverage of the inauguration events and as I watched, my daughter walked in while our newly elected president was speaking about his predecessor like a schoolyard bully behind the podium. In the three minutes that she watched he had said he was going to bring down the prices of everything and then talked about placing tariffs on products and my thirteen year old said “wait, he said he’s lowering the cost of goods but is setting up tariffs. Won’t that make the cost of goods go up?” I’m simultaneously proud of my daughter for her grasp of economics and horrified that she is watching the president stand before an audience and spit out words that his actions clearly contradict. I’m happy to say I turned it off before Elon Musk sieg heiled the audience. Don’t even get me started about that little demonstration where the world’s richest man tried to blame the media for misrepresenting him while hate groups spread the clip announcing their new hero. If his intention was not in fact a to make a racist gesture, why not just say so instead of igniting the flames of speculation? It’s probably a little harder to deny once you look up countless antisemitic statements he has made in the past. 

When 1,500 terrorists were released back onto the street I started looking up names. Can we get some kind of registry for these guys like the sex offender registry? I’m guessing since the man who let them out is trying to ignore the fact that they are violent criminals, and turn them into victims makes me think this is not gong to be something that happens. We used to have our government keeping an eye on terrorist groups like the proud boys and oath keepers, but now they are being pardoned by our president and sent home as heroes. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with our country? The man who is in charge of the Pentagon has a giant racist tattoo on his chest, has been fired from multiple jobs for financial mismanagement and showing up to work drunk, has a history of violence against women, and served in the army reserve, but is somehow qualified to run our military.  

I’m watching executive orders roll out and trying to remind myself that these are the same kinds of promises I get from my daughter when she promises to clean her bathroom or empty the dishwasher. Apparently the government can now say there are two sexes when we all know that just isn’t the case. I had to laugh when I saw Caitlin Jenner’s congratulations to the president. I wonder what she’ll think when people start calling her Bruce and forcing her to use the men’s room at restaurants. I would like to keep the MAGAs out of my public restrooms since they seem to be awfully concerned about my genitals. Next time I see a woman in the public restroom at the mall with her little red hat I’m going to ask that security makes sure she is a woman first before letting her in.

I have to wonder what kind of president orders the Constitution of the United States of America to be removed from the White House website and sends ICE with CIA agents to an elementary school to scare small children. He’s already attaching strings to federal relief funds to help with the wildfires because their governor has different political views, and trying to remove the 14th Amendment from the Constitution. Can you imagine if a liberal president took office and issued an order that contradicted the 2nd Amendment? He’s been screaming “FAKE NEWS” forever and I kind of have to agree with him at this point after multiple interviews have gone on the air with all of his false claims being unchecked. I remember having parental warnings for “mature content” on television as a kid and I think at this point they should probably be on the news channels. I stopped watching anything Donny was on when he made fun of a handicapped reporter, and it’s viewed in my house pretty infrequently, but I’m afraid to have my kid see it at my parents’ house where Fox News is a household staple. I have a vivid memory of going to a Christmas party where I saw my racist grandfather and joking we could rile him up by telling him I had a black boyfriend. The thought of telling my kid to do the same thing but with a girlfriend breaks my heart.

I’m seeing a lot of posts about learning who your neighbors are, and I can tell you I am doing just that. We have the kind of patriots around the corner with a flagpole in their front yard where the flag was never at half mast after Jimmy Carter’s death, and I can see deer heads through the window so I’ll be sure to see if they were just pardoned and released from a federal prison. I was thinking about putting a flagpole in our front yard to fly a pride flag because I think you could see it from the freeway, but my husband thinks it might be a wasted effort since the view isn’t as clear as I think it is. My thought is we’ll not know until we try it, so maybe that will be a good summer project.

I have turned off the news for the sake of my own sanity, but still stay plugged in to NPR and Politico. I have a new book to read and am listening to lots of punk rock music while writing client notes so at least the weekend should be good!

 

 

In My Eyes

When we moved into our house a year ago, we had about triple the wall space to decorate as our last house. My husband has been slowly filling the walls with his artwork. We had a handful of his pieces at our old house, but his last job kept him so overworked, he had little time to create for the last ten years. In the fifteen months we have lived here, he has created at least a dozen pieces to hang around our house. Strangely enough, two of my favorite pieces are in bathrooms.

At some point in the last year, I decided our bathrooms needed a theme. Don’t ask me why. It’s probably because I kept calling the two bathrooms on the main floor “the front bathroom” and the “back bathroom” and they are both technically near the front of the house. The “front” bathroom then became the “gold” bathroom since it has gold fixtures, but calling the other bathroom the “black” bathroom due to it’s fixture color seemed a little racist. I had visions of my kid’s friends being in the house and me telling them to use the “black bathroom” after getting out of the pool. 

The front/gold bathroom has become the “skull” bathroom when I bought a gold skull last Halloween that never left the counter. I like skulls and have a lot of artwork and decor that include them in the house. I even have skull nightlight/fragrance plug ins around the house. I was over the moon when my husband created a piece of art to hang that fit the theme perfectly. Once the skull bathroom was complete I started thinking about a theme for the back/black bathroom. I kept seeing a rug with serpents on it that I loved and decided a snake theme would be a perfect counterpart for the skull theme. I started looking for snake decor, but was not finding much that I liked, or that fit the space. Then at Christmas, my husband asked for a bunch of tools and art supplies and by the New Year he was showing me a snake he had sculpted. I came home from work one night and when I dropped my bag at the door, he told me if I had to pee I better use the back bathroom. I knew he had been working on making the sculpture into a piece to hang and had seen it during the process, but I had no idea how beautiful it was going to look hanging on the wall. My husband has some serious skills. So now I have my two themed bathrooms, and the serpent is hanging directly above the toilet, There’s no jokes to be made or make people feel creeped out, right? 

*A little Tim Timebomb who also loves skulls and snakes was heard while writing this post.

 

 

Cats Are Assholes

Seriously, cats are pushy, demanding, stubborn little jerks. My two baby boys have been getting mani-pedis since the time they moved in with us and all of a sudden they have decided they want nothing to do with the vet or the vet techs. A few months ago when they went for their regular monthly visit, Rollins decided he was done with nail trims, swatted at the vet tech and screamed bloody murder. I actually heard the little devil hiss for the first time when the tech tried to remove him from his carrier. They sent us home with drugs to sedate him and the next day they clipped his little razors while he tried to swing at the techs in slow motion.

When the time came for their annual exams the following month, we were directed to drug up both cats prior to the visit. The problem with this is big brother Milo is smart enough to know when he is being set up. Both cats reluctantly ate the drugs the night before and Milo slept so hard he didn’t even notice Rollins trying to rip his ears off in the middle of the night. The following morning we had to shoot the medication down their throats with a syringe after they refused even their favorite tuna water laced with sedatives. Two hours later Milo was able to complete his appointment unphased, while Rollins was still swinging away like a prize fighter. The vet explained that his anxiety had temporarily overridden the medication which proved accurate when we got him home and was so high he toppled over head first into his water fountain. Back to the drawing board.

We were instructed to purchase a soft-sided carrier with multiple points of access and sent home with a new, stronger sedative for the next week. When appointment day arrived I fed Rollins his sedative laced food and waited an hour for him to start getting sloppy. When he still had the zoomies, I gave him a second dose and watched him zone out in his cat tree. When we arrived at the vet he was thoroughly stoned and ready to go… until they brought him in the procedure room. For about a half hour I waited in the empty exam room listening to the entire staff of the vet practice laugh in the back room. When they finally returned my little demon to the exam room, I was informed that he remained awake for 15 minutes after being injected with the drug that should have knocked him out immediately. They were able to draw his blood and give him all of his vaccines while awake but sedate. As soon as they had completed their work, he passed out. Once again, adrenaline overrode the sedatives but he eventually succumbed to the medication. When we brought him home, all of the drugs kicked in and he toppled into his food, did a header into the cabinets and passed out on a blanket on the floor. I had to carry him down to the litter box so he wouldn’t wet the bed.

Since knocking the cats out every month for trims is not an option, we are finally going to learn how to clip the boys’ nails at home. We have been able to successfully sedate Milo and take care of his claws while he slept, but Rollins has been a little challenging. I have a feeling nobody is going to come out of this process unscathed.

*I wrote this while listening to Christmas music. It’s December!

 

Touch Me I’m Sick

The medical industry needs some work. I spent two years in pain and thousands upon thousands of dollars while doctors shrugged their shoulders and passed me off to the next doctor before a test for an unrelated issue revealed two boulders in my kidneys. I had cameras shoved in every orifice looking for the source of the pain in my side that doubled me over before a CT scan on my intestines showed giant stones in both kidneys, one of which was completely blocking the passage of fluid and shutting down functioning. No wonder I felt like shit for two straight years.

Of course once I knew the stones were there, it was all I could feel. I had visions of peeing out a slab of granite in the middle of my work day while pretending my insides weren’t turning into jelly. It took two trips to the ER, three trips to the OR and a half dozen office visits to remove one stone only to find out the other one was shrinking itself and being reabsorbed into my body. During one of the office visits, an old, white, male doctor told me I wasn’t in pain after pulling a 3″ long tube through my urethra. I thought I misheard him until he said “the stent is out, the pain is gone”. I didn’t think I would ever have to explain to an old man the concept of body kinesthesia, but apparently I did, so I did explain. I pointed at him and said “No. That is your body” then pointed to myself and slowly said “and this is my body. I am telling you that THIS body is still in pain. I understand that the pain will dissipate, but am asking what to do now, while I am still in pain”. When he tried to respond I stopped him and said “you know what, never mind. We are done here. I won’t be needing a follow up appointment with you”. I went home and slept for 5 hours straight at 11am due to the pain I was NOT in. When I woke up, I found a female Urologist to follow up with.

During the last few years while I have been navigating this situation, I have learned a few things. Emergency rooms are a waste of time unless you are attempting to score drugs or something is broken. They specialize in nothing, so do not want to perform anything other than run tests to send off to a specialist three weeks later. During my first trip to the ER, they gave me Flomax to “make it easier for the stones to pass” after being told the stones were more than double the size of passable. During the second trip, they attempted to give me the pain medication I am allergic to. They proceeded to run the same tests repeatedly just to prove they were doing something. My insurance promptly responded to the bills for these tests demanding that I explain why they were necessary.

More importantly I learned that if you do not advocate for yourself, shit is not going to get done. Doctors do not believe women are in pain. I saw multiple specialists before I was properly diagnosed for a fairly common ailment, and it was an accident that I was even diagnosed. The doctor who ordered the test blew me off once he learned that my problem was in my kidneys and not my stomach. Instead of referring me to a proper Urologist, he sent me on my way with the yellow pages. The test that found the stones was the fifth test that doctor ordered in 18 months. I literally had to jump up and down to get that test while all of my doctors shrugged their shoulders and sent me to the next one in line. My left kidney was barely functioning and all of these doctors were blaming menopause. All of these male doctors were blaming menopause.

The good news is I hit both my deductible and out of pocket max for my insurance before the end of the first quarter so I am seeing every doctor and running every test I can think of by the end of the year just to make sure there are no other parts of my body on strike or ready to fall off. Maybe I will finally find out what exactly causes me to sneeze uncontrollably every morning and why my knees sound like popcorn popping every time I squat. I am also able to see my chiropractor monthly and have preventative tests on my heart and lungs. Maybe I can also have this silver lining assessed since I seem to keep finding it. 

Danger Kitty

I’m pretty sure my youngest cat is trying to off himself. Although I have to wonder if cats possess the cognitive ability to have suicidal ideation, the drama queen in me says I need to immediately search for a kitten therapist. I think he might low-key hate himself for what an asshole he is to his big brother on a daily basis. Or maybe he is just like a little teenager running at full speed without a thought about where he’ll end up. I feel like every week I have to save this little daredevil from himself. Between untangling him from various cords and twine, and literally talking him off ledges, my hands are full babysitting a one year old cat.

This all started a few months ago when I found him hanging off his cat tree with the cord for the blinds wrapped around his neck. I thought it may have been an accident but when i untangled him, he immediately dove back in and tightened the make-shift noose. This continued for days until I wrapped the cord around the curtain rod, taking it out of his reach.

Shortly after his first hanging attempt, psycho kitty began walking on the outside of the banisters on the staircase and the hallway above the family room. Daily, he stands above us meowing and lunging toward the edge. I have had to pull him back from the edge by his tail on more than one occasion and I am fairly certain it is only a matter of time before he takes a leap onto the couch. He has been testing his jumping skills as well by flinging himself from the top of his cat tree to a curtain rod that is nine feet above the ground. The first time he did this, I tried to rescue him from falling, but he dove over me back into a cat bed five feet below him. He has continued to practice his tight rope walking skills while meowing for me to come watch like a toddler.

After hanging and jumping failed, he moved on to choking and poisoning. This cat doesn’t sniff and lick things before swallowing them whole, he just goes for it. A week ago I heard him barfing up something in the kitchen and ended up having to chase him to yank a giant piece of twine that was hanging from his mouth. As I pulled, a knotted ball of black twine came straight out of his throat followed by a puddle of saliva. A foot away was a tangle of beige twine the size of a peach. I don’t even know where he would have found twine, but he gets into cabinets and drawers by himself with ease. In between trying to strangle his own intestines, he is scarfing down the two plants in the house that could kill him. He literally leaves every other plant other than the two poisonous ones alone. He’s like a moth to a flame with lilies. Even when I move the plants out of his reach, ninja cat finds a way to get to them.

I was trying not to read too much into these behaviors, but this cat is either suicidal or stupid, and he has proven to be far too clever to be stupid. In fact, he is so clever that he stares right at me while doing something he knows he shouldn’t be. Maybe he is like a little teenager, believing he is invincible. Just in case he does have suicidal tendencies, I have been whispering positive affirmations in his ear in the morning and cuddling him. Every morning he hears “you are loved and lovable, you are worthy of your perch, you are impeccably groomed, you are worthy of all the treats…” If Brody hadn’t already turned e into a crazy cat lady, Rollins most certainly has.

*I wrote this mostly while listening to Sinead O’Connor after reading her memoir over the weekend.

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