Devil Cat Likes My Friend

In a week where bad went to worse, there wasn't much I could do but concentrate on the happy things.  I did get some good news - my mom's cancer was caught before it had spread beyond a few cells, and the cure was the surgery she had before she knew she had the cancer. Still that word is very scary.  I don't like to think about my only remaining parents mortality, let alone my own.

Work went from challenging and frustrating to so bad I shut my door, closed my blinds, and sobbed.  Beyond that I can't really say what is going on - its CONFIDENTIAL (how I hate those words).  The situation boils down to a misinterpretation of a memo I wrote over two years ago.  The HQ department of my company REALLY likes to beat dead horses. As I said to a now retired manager "how many times can I fall on my sword?".  I am learning the answer to that question is "an infinite amount.  Especially when it is a hypothetical sword."

When faced with a week like that, what is a girl to do?  GO TO VEGAS.    I just happen to have a very lovely friend eloping this weekend.  Hurrah!  The couple are letting my crash their elopement - double hurrah!  And the best part?  I think the bride and groom are an awesome couple who make each other super happy - triple hurrah!  So I get to run away for the weekend and get away from my house, from my mom, and from my job.

In other happy news, another good friend got engaged this weekend - and like the elopers, both are smashingly fabulous together.

In even happier news - my devil cat - the siamese that weighs in at 10 whole pounds who is on prozac did not try to eat my friend tonight.  This is excellent as my friend shall be cat sitting for me. It is nice to be able to go away without worrying that my friend will be eaten by a cat not much bigger than a rat, when he is just trying to do a favor for me.

Good news all around!  I just have to keep concentrating on THAT.

Some things even a lap cat can't fix.

My mom had her surgery last week - and she came through like a champ.  For every horrible experience we had at what should now be titled "the dress rehearsal" the first time around, we had a pleasant one this time.  No complications, and the surgeon didn't see anything sketchy.  Mom had a few rough patches as she sat in the recovery room - nothing life threatening, and out of respect to her, nothing I will detail on here.  Lets just say we spent 13 hours at the hospital, and at one point in the recovery room she was so upset all I could do to comfort her was to call her best friend so SHE could calm mom down.  I was a bit offended when nothing I said gave her comfort - quite the opposite, it made her mad.  I believe she got mad at me for being "optimistic".  That will probably be the only time someone gets mad at me for blowing sunshine up their ass.

Mom's recovery is going well.  With the exception of some painful gas, and her stubborn refusal to take the gas pill, mom is doing just grand.  Me?  Not so well.  I spent most of my free time in the weeks before the surgery with my mom.  Most of last week was with her, and my entire weekend was as well.  I find my needs falling by the wayside.  Last week I had no time to exercise.  This week I am making time for that, but all time for fun activities I have has disappeared.  Stress and no fun are not a healthy combination.  In a few weeks mom will need me less, but until then I shall sound like a pirate saying "argh" a whole lot.

If I must confess, I suppose this is the venue: I am having a very hard time remaining optimistic.  Mom got a call today that there was a spot of cancer that was removed during her surgery.  She had convinced herself when they didn't find anything visible to the plain eye that all was fine.  She was in such shock that she asked no questions once she was told she has to be seen once a year.  We will know more on Friday at the post op appointment.  If nothing else, I will be there and will be alert enough to ask the questions that are needed.  If she isn't being referred to an ecologist, it is most likely safe to assume that the surgery that is done was the only cure that was needed. We focused on that during our phone call.  When all I really wanted to do was break down and cry.  I need someone to tell me things will be ok and to comfort me.  And it really sucks that the person to do that can't be my mom.  Somehow talking about these things just brings us both down, instead of both up.

Instead of wallowing, I went out tonight and had my passport photo taken.  This small tidbit has nothing to to with the rest of this story, but it is probably best to attempt to land on a positive note.  Everything will work out in the end.  Just maybe not how I would want it to.

Meh.

Tonight started with good intentions.  I was going to BBQ.  I was going to bake banana bread muffins to kill two birds with one fruit - to celebrate a coworkers achievements and to use those dead bananas on my counter.  About all that is going to happen now is I shall shower and clip my toenails.

Blame the heat.  I am.

I Should Have Knocked On Wood

Life in my office became so horrible this week that I came home Thursday evening and opened up the job page of every consulting firm I have ever worked with, starting to look for a way out.  Right now it is just looking.  Why?  Because the one good thing about the job still remains - the people that work for me are still as awesome as ever.  The people I work WITH on the other hand, most of them are turning out to be, uh, real pieces of work.

C.

To Quote The Beatles

"I've got to admit its getting better, a little better all the time". 

How I wish I were speaking of the ongoing cat war in my home, but no, I talk of work.  At home, the cats remain separated by baby gates, someone usually crying when they aren't on the same side I am. My two boys fight when together, and I just can't deal with one of them getting hurt in one of these skirmishes, or of giving one up, so for right now that situation is in a holding pattern.  And I am not talking about my personal life - which I don't have much of, between coming home dead tired from a 10 hour day at work (not including lunch - or if it does count a lunchtime it is because I didn't get one,and this never counts my hour and a half commute) and spending every weekend with my mom, I don't have much of.  The nightmares about my moms upcoming surgery have begun again.  I do my best to enjoy the time we have together now.  Diabetes has improved her quality of life.  She is losing weight, is much more positive than she has been in years, and has energy again.  I can actually go DO things with her.  She can walk more than a block or two without needing to rest.

What is getting better is my work life.  I got an office recently, not due to merit, but rather because I was next on the list when someone else ahead of me passed.  I love my office, and oddly don't miss my wonderful window view at all.  I have the world's largest desk.  Some call it the "Sea of Wood".  Soon it shall be decorated with TONS of color.  Having a door is great. My favorite thing is to invite people in to my office to chat. My first purchase for the office was an electric tea kettle.  I tell everyone to bring a mug (I have the teabags).  That we can talk over a cup of tea.

What makes it all better is that I am getting comfortable in my new position.  I don't have the daily struggle with colleagues who didn't look at me as a manager, but still as their peer anymore. I am more confident in my knowledge levels.  For awhile it was very odd to have people come to ME as the expert.  I don't know anything near everything, and I still make some big giant mistakes.  But mistakes can be fixed, and I do my best to let my team know what I did wrong, and how to fix it so they can learn too.

There are other factors.  I inherited one person to build my branch on. Thank heavens he is all sorts of awesome (cause if he wasn't I wouldn't be able to say word one here). From there I had the opportunity to hire two more for my branch.  I suppose I should thank the shitty economy for providing me with such a kick ass applicant pool.  So I picked two people to work with me, they accepted.  Their eagerness inspires me.  It is fun to be at work. The pay is crappy, the work environment is frustrating, yet for the first time EVER in my career, I am part of a team.  Sure, I created the parameters that we would operate like that, and I got to pick the people, but they all get along.  They all like each other.  That is the chemistry that makes a team, and that was just pure luck.

My team is so great that I get to be a mentor/coach boss, instead off bitchy mcbossypants.  Don't get me wrong - that part rears its ugly head, but usually only to people who go after my team.

Ah yes.  It is getting better all the time.

Its Easter Baby

Lets face it.  Lent can be a massive pain in the ass.  Its close to Christmas, and remembering to give something up and not eat meat on Fridays is not my favorite thing.  In fact, I am more likely to gorge on meat through the week during lent lest that one day I can't eat it be the day I crave it.  The rest of the year I am likely to go days at a time as an accidental vegetarian.  Usually I appreciate the spiritual side of the season - this year that didn't hit me much. Instead, it is more the community of it all that I am feeling.

You see, Catholics tend to be a bit on the down low about our faith.  Or maybe just the ones I know.  Lent is the one time of year when we seem to come out of the woodwork.  Trading vegetarian recipes and talking about what we have given up.  The best part seems to be that we get a bonus family holiday that others don't.  My brother comes down for Easter every year....... only the Catholics reason why without my telling them.  Liking my family is just a bonus.  The bigger bonus?  My brother and I were at my grandma's house fixing her curtain pull when a couple of cousins an aunt and an uncle rolled in.  It was brilliant.

Speaking of brilliant, I may as well reference the Easter story.  Last week was my last time with the 8th grade class I volunteer with.  As we sat in a circle, I tried to make the story of holy week mean something to them.  I think I said something along the lines of "come on, face it - this is one hell of a story!  Its a soap opera!  If you hadn't heard it a million times it would be better than any story on television".

The ultimate in betrayal!  The ultimate in sacrifice!  The ultimate in hope! Really, what could be more human than this story.  The hero is facing his destiny.  In his hour of need, one of his best friends, (you know, the friends that are like family that you pick and weren't inheriting from birth) sold him for some money.  His very closest friend denied him - after swearing he never would.  He was humiliated and killed in a slow painful manner.

Who among us hasn't been betrayed, or at least felt like we had been?  And to then have to sacrifice your life for those very people? I think I would have run the other way.  But the best part of the story is the hope.  The hero?  He came back.  He kept his word.  He forgave............

Better than the best writing we have these days.  Right?

Happy Easter.

Lousy Days

I knew when I got up this morning that today was going to be a bad day.  Today is the day my mom went in for surgery. She isn't the healthiest of people - like most of it she thinks she eats better than she does, eats less than she does, and exercises more than she does.  Now, if I am to be completely honest, I will admit, today could have gone worse.  She could have died in surgery.  She could have had a massive coronary.  She could have had a stroke.  Those things didn't happen.  For that I am grateful.  But what did happen is right up there with the worst case scenarios - the surgery was postponed because the nurses discovered my mom has diabetes.  And not just tsk tsk shame on you for not taking care of yourself, we have to monitor you diabetes, but full on, "have fun checking your blood sugar 3 times a day and giving yourself shots in the belly" diabetes.  Joy.

No one was in a good mood when we got to the hospital at 5:50 AM.  Evidently there were some tiffs between my mom and brother on their ride in.  So when we were told only one person could go hang out with her pre-op, I said I would go in with her.  So I hung out as they corrected her birthdate on her wrist tag.  I fixed the sock that she had put on sideways.  I kept her company.

Over time, I have learned that one of my defects is that I shut down when I see someone I love in pain.  As in all circuits demand that they be shut off and re-boot (IE I pass out).  The nurse wasn't very kind when putting in the iv needle, and it stung and hurt my mother.  A lot.  She grimaced, yelped in pain, and ignored me.  I tried to get her to talk to me, to look at me, I held her hand and said everything would be ok.  And then the world started to spin.  I was having a hard time breathing.  I was dizzy. At about the point that they did a blood sugar test and asked my mom if she was diabetic, I knew I had to leave the room. I hadn't even see the blood.  I guess the up side to this defect is it is very visible to anyone around me - a nurse had to escort (holding me up firmly) me to the waiting room, where I tagged my brother to go in.  I felt like an absolute turd - I was not going through ANYTHING but yet I was the one who had to leave the room.

2 hours later my brother came out to tell me she is diabetic and that surgery is being postponed.  The Anesthesiologist made the call, and was visibly bothered that her general doctor hadn't caught this.  I am too.  We will be finding a new doctor for her post haste.  We had to wait for someone to give her an insulin shot.  We had to wait for someone to teach her how to face giving herself injections...... When I went in to see her, she wouldn't look at me.  She was so upset.  More upset over having to wait for surgery and get the IV than over being diabetic.  She hasn't realized yet that her life is changing.  Diet, exercise, they are not optional.  They are requirements.

My brother went home with her, and within 10 minutes got into a fight because he wouldn't let her eat sugar laden jello.  At the hospital they clearly tried to teach her to do the things to keep her alive - stick herself with a needle, not how to keep herself healthy- to eat right.  Goodbye simple carbs.  She thinks she can still eat cookies - I wonder how long it will take until she learns that those things are a part of her past.

So I do believe that today was a thoroughly crappy day.  One we get to repeat in 6 weeks.  Hopefully then it will be for recovery..........

That being said, there is always something to make you laugh.  When I came home, I found my fat lazy cat had jumped onto the kitchen counter, grabbed the catnip that came with his new toy, drug it into the living room, spread it all over the area rug, and rolled in it like it was a million dollars.  I laughed and cleaned it up.  When I came home after running some errands i found he had done the same thing with different catnip in the kitchen.  This time I discovered him rubbing himself with it.  Since both cats like catnip, maybe I just need to rub them down with it and let them have at it in the same room.This could be one of my best (or worst) ideas ever.

Now it is time for bed.  I had better rest.  It is going to be a big fight between the carbs, my mother, and I.