this has been a long post.

A really crappy phone pic of my 5 year anniversary ring for Nat…since I made a post almost 2 months ago…and then promptly forgot it had been that long since I’ve blogged.  It is so weird… it feels like this month flew by and yet has gone by so slow at the same time.  I know, I don’t get it either.  Anyways, I’m so sad I don’t have a pic of my ring that does it justice because it sparkles like mad under lights and the sun.  I’m the weirdo you see in the store staring at her hand b/c the shiny thing on it occasionally mesmerizes me hahaha

My blog is suffering mostly thanks to my tumblr account.  Tumblr… besides the picture sharing aspect, has sort of become my twitter as well, where I occasionally dump of little thoughts although I have shit ton more of those little thoughts in my draft section than actually posted to my tumblr.  I like tumblr so much though because it works how my brain works… finding things that explain how I’m feeling instead of just writing  it all down.  Or a place to just find inspiring stuff and not even think about myself.  Just getting lost in pretty stuff…what I like to do.

Thought I have totally failed at it tonight, I did make a deal with myself to cut down on my internet time though.  I’ve been going through some shit lately and I think I’ve been using it as a form of escapism way way way too often and I just finally realized that isn’t gonna change anything or make anything better for me.

April started out shitty.  A few days before the end of March…an outdoor cat that adopted us (actually Slinky brought her here….to hump her, she never left) we named Martha (cuz she’s the first lady cat here *snort*) had 2 little kittens.  One was ice cold but still alive when I she brought it to a basket I made up for her and the other one, got it warmed back up and all that and really thought they had a fighting chance for a couple of days… even moved her into the house, letting her in and out as she pleased since it was so early in the year for her to have kittens.  Well the first kitten started failing to thrive and she ended up rejecting it and it died.  Then the  morning of the 1st the other one went.  So that was really depressing.  And then that same morning I find Slinky… which lawdy… I had a post I wanted to make here last summer when we moved about Slinky.. long story short at the moment, Slinky is (or was, he’s quite grown now) a kitten who showed up on our apartment patio along with his sister back in 2010 and me and our only sane neighbor helped me take care of them and protect them from our PSYCHO ASS cat hating neighbors that wanted to kill them because don’tcha know that cats, especially black cats harbor evil spirits *sigh*.  His sister ended up going to a rescue but we couldn’t get Slink there.  So when I got the chance to move last summer hell yeah…Slinky came with us.  And he’s been doing really really well.  But April 1st I let him in as I occasionally do and discovered a terrible injury and almost vomited because I had no idea what it was, what was going on.

He had disappeared like a week or so before and came back looking pretty beat up.  I figured he had gotten in a fight but he wasn’t acting extremely abnormal but he was holding his tail in an awkward position and wouldn’t let me get very close to him and he’s normally cuddly and loving.  So it was like the wee hours of the morning and the one kitten had died the day before or so and the other one was on the verge of dying and then I find this horrible horrible injury on my Slinky kitty.  When he came in I had lifted up his tail to see why he kept holding that way and I noticed this huge gaping hole underneath his tail.  I thought it was like… his entire rectum or or intestines hanging out or something.  I couldn’t even make sense of what I was seeing.  I just freaked out like omg how is this cat even alive??  I put him back outside because the indoor animals were trying to to like, sniff him and it was freaking me out and we did not have the money to take him to the emergency 24 hour vet so I had to wait till morning to take him.  In the meantime the second little kitten died so I was just in a freaked out completely mood.

So I called our vet before they even opened that morning and thankfully they answered and I brought him over as soon as they opened.  Really didn’t know what was gonna happen with him, really figured him to be a goner to be honest.  I thought his rectum had been ripped out or something that couldn’t be repaired and would kill him.  The vet ended up calling me back in after they took at look at him and cleaned him up and what had happened was a fight, in which he got bit or scratched in the area right under his tail… an huge abscess had formed and burst leaving this massive hole that I was witnessing.  It was right above his anus and basically, he was the luckiest kitty alive because if it would have abscessed into his rectum, he would have been a goner.  I was too scared to take him home that night so I let them keep him overnight.  They had did everything they needed to do to him w/o anesthesia, which is amazing.  He is such a calm cat.  They had to debride it, clean it, and give him some hefty antibiotics.  He even let them make sure that it didn’t lead into any place of importance and I was thrilled to find out when I picked him up the next day that he was using the bathroom normally.

So I brought him home… and we needed to keep him inside.  Slinky freaks.the.fuck.out if he is contained indoors.  He’s weird because he’ll come in and visit, even have a little nap on the rug but when he wants out…you get him the hell out or else he will destroy your house.  There’s no way he could ever be an indoor cat.  So he freaked out.  And after one full night of me dealing with a freaking out cat while writing a paper that was due the next evening I put him outside the next morning.  He had a follow up appt a few days later which thankfully he showed up.  The vet really really wanted me to keep him inside until he was healed and gave me cat tranquilizers to drug him for duration of that time.  Yeaaaaaaah… that was all fine and dandy for a day.  Day 2 of drugging the cat rolled around and the cat…decided tranquilizers didn’t phase him anymore.  Besides, I felt like keep him locked in a small room freaking out wasn’t gonna help him heal.  He wasn’t grooming himself or anything anymore so against the vet’s advice, I returned him back to the life he enjoyed and decided to take it day by day.

It’s been almost a full month now and I am glad to report that he has healed up.  I was gonna take him to the vet for another follow up, but no real issues have come up.  I’m more interested in knowing though if we can get him neutered now soon so I need to call and ask them that.  As of a day or so ago the last remaining pink/reddish area has healed up.  He’s got some massive scarring under his tail and the area is disfigured now but everything is functioning normally as far as important parts in that area goes.  He does walk with a bit of a limp now, I am not sure if he has some pain issues or if all the scar tissue is tight or painful.  Tonight though he finally became the Slinky I knew again, came in the house for tons of rubs and even took a little nap on the rug.  He has finally forgiven me for saving his life I guess.  He hated me after I drugged him and kept him in the bathroom lol so… I think we’ve moved past that.

This is Slinky.


This is also Slinky.

I hate that he’s an outdoor cat because I’ve had him since he was a kitten and I love him and I know at any time he could just disappear.  That’s one reason I really want to get him neutered so maybe he will roam less and not get into fights.  It’s so frustrating because the very morning I found out he was injured I was gonna call and get a neutering appointment set up for him and that obviously got blown to shit.  And now of course there is also Martha, who will no doubt have another batch of kittens before I can get her spayed.  And Martha probably wouldn’t even be here if I would have gotten Slinky neutered earlier in the year so I now find myself responsible for these outdoor cats that I didn’t intend to be and having to find the funds to get everyone neutered and spayed.  I can’t like..just ignore an animal though.  It isn’t in me.  I could have not fed Martha in hopes that she would find another house or even took her to a shelter but I knew the end result would just be death either way so at least I can try to take care of her but damn.  Shit gets expensive and Slinky’s vet bills were not cheap.  I know Ki didn’t really agree with me for spending that much on an outdoor cat but he would have been dead otherwise so in my mind it wasn’t really an option.

So that was the cat drama for April…

And then somewhere in the midst of April I just felt myself slipping into a bit of a funk.  Not one of those feel sorry for yourself wallow in self pity funks but just a lack of motivation type funk.

I also got the experience for the second time people starting to make assumptions about me and my uterus based on the fact that I don’t have any kids yet.  That assumption is, of course, that I must not want to have children or else I would have them by now.  Does anyone have any clue how hard it is  for me not to shout “fuck you” when I get that assumption thrown at me?  Here allow me to be completely mature about it:

I just… that assumption kills me.  Because nobody has ever realized how much I’ve wanted to have a baby, to be a mother.  It seems important when other people want it, but for some reason, not me.  No, I’ve never really been vocal about it because as bad as I want it, who the fuck knows when because my life is a crazy unpredictable place which is made even more crazy and unpredictable when your ovaries don’t really cooperate with you.  So it is one of those things, I’ve decided not to dwell on until I’m ready to commit myself 100% to the whole crazy ass world of TTC because I’ve learned over the years it isn’t worth driving myself nuts about until I have to do all the shit I don’t want to do to have a baby, but no doubt will have to go through.  And much to apparently the world’s surprise… I don’t have an issue with having a baby in my 30s.

In a weird way, fertility issues have been a sort of gift because had I not had them… I probably would have had a baby in my early 20s.  And my life would be something completely different.  Not that that would be a bad thing at all, because I would give away everything positive I’ve gained in a heartbeat to have a baby this very instant, but since life is the way it is, and there are no magic wish granting fairies… I am really glad to have had the opportunity to begin to figure out who I am in a context of doing it and only being responsible for myself.  I’m glad I’ve had all these years to do whatever the fuck I want whenever the fuck I want.  I’m glad to have had this time where I can be completely selfish, because once it’s gone… it ain’t coming back.

But I should also just give it up and realize that no matter what I do…no matter how I live my life.. there’s always gonna be people there to judge how I do it.  That’s just the human experience.  All that matters is that I find peace in the matter, because it is my life.

Speaking of pregnancy though…

I am going to be an auntie again the beginning of September!  My sissy is pregnant again and halfway baked already.  She is having another little boy whom I just cannot wait to meet.  And take loads of adorable pictures of.


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