omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
Food poisoning has swept the house. Or a stomach bug. Not that I care either way exactly what it is, just that I'm glad we got hit in shifts, because while I'm keeping food down now, I'm am fucking wiped out. Well, jello and water and coke and applesauce. About to try homemade chicken broth since we've got a freezer half full of the stuff. And because my bloodsugar is crashing hard.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
We picked her up from the after-hours clinic this morning and brought her to a vet's office in the area. She stayed there most of the day; they biopsied one of her paws, her mouth, the area above her eye, and one of her ears. Labs on that will be back Thursday-ish. They kept her on an IV drip with fluids/nutrition and two different antibiotics all day. They're mostly worried about her not eating right now. Since they don't have staff at the office overnight, she's home for the night, and we'll be taking her back first thing in the morning so they can put her back on the IV and so on.

She was *much* more alert and responsive this morning at the vet's office, to the point of needing to be gently restrained when they took her temp and took the bandage off one of her paws to examine it. (The ER cleaned, debrided, and bandaged her paws.) Her one eye isn't leaking whitish stuff anymore, so that's a good sign. And she was moving around and being fussy about this whole 'poked at' thing, which is much better than the limp, unresisting kitty of Saturday.

We've got her set back up in a room by herself with water, a fresh litterbox (with non-standard litter, so it won't irritate her paws) and two dishes of food, one turkey flavoured wet cat food, the other just plain tuna. I've also got a small thing with the tuna water set in there in case she wants to lick that out. Initial offer was rejected, but I'm not sure how much of that was her being upset at the vet's trip and needing to settle back down before she'd be willing to eat. It's only been 30 minutes at most since she got home. I'll try some plain cooked and shredded chicken later tonight if she hasn't touched what's in the room by then, since chicken is something I know she likes.

I'm feeling pretty wiped, since on top of fretting about the kitty most of the night (and not sleeping much because of it) we also had to go to the walk in clinic at the hospital to renew my blood pressure meds, which was not the easiest on either myself. Once we got into the waiting room, that helped, because it was an area of the hospital that looked different enough from the OBGYN area and the NICU that I was able to calm down somewhat. Louis commented that he'd been in that area of the hospital enough during the time that I was in for it to be making him very . . . uncomfortable.

In any case, Robin *is* doing better, it's just that she's not eating by herself right now. This is a pretty major worry for the vet's office, and for us as well. I'm hoping that it's mostly her feeling under the weather and such, and that she'll start eating once the antibiotics and other stuff has had more of a chance to fight off the Nasty she's dealing with.

omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
Kitty is currently in animal hospital. Negative for feline leukemia and FIV. Likely diagnosis: Auto-immune disorder, which made me thump my head into the wall a few times. (My mom has an auto-immune disorder, and since they've determined that preeclampsia is an auto-immune disorder, I have one as well. Now one of our freakin' *cats* has one.) They have her started on antibiotics and an IV for hydration/nutrition. They're also going to debride/clean/bandage her paws. The vet also mentioned getting her started on steroids.

What was in the PayPal account (thankyouthankyouthankyou) covered the initial exam and checking her into the hospital. The stay will cost about $600 more, and they're only keeping her until 8 AM Monday because they're an after-hours clinic ONLY. If they think she needs to go into another animal hospital, they'll tell us and give us a list of ones in the area. Which will be money above this visit. And just to top it off, they're not going to release the kitty to us without payment in full. On the plus side, they're pretty sure this will be fairly easily treated/kept under control in the future. It's just the emergency hospital stay that's the expensive part.

Erm. So, that's the update on the kitteh. Feel free to link this/cross-post/signal boost in whatever fashion you wish. And, I really wish I could find pictures of Robin in good health. As it is, this is what she looked like when we last saw her: I'm hoping to update those with pictures of her being her usual adorable and loving self. Right now, I'd even be happy with her habit of deciding that sexy-times is the exact time when kitties need pettings.

And while we're on the subject, I would have been very happy to *avoid* being in a hospital this month. Even the animal ER had some of the same scents, and the whole thing about having a small, helpless member of the family being hooked up to tubes . . . yeah, I may not have flashbacks in the sense that most people think of them, but my emotional state last night was not very good.

omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
Sooo, snaking out from inside the house and from an overflow pipe outside didn't work. There appear to be, in fact, no clogs. We have very slow drainage going on, but it's just that, very slow.

Louis' dad is up here showing us where the other overflow pipe is, and the full extent of the collapsed tank. (He says it just rusted and the lid caved in. -twitches-) Pumping it out isn't an option, because of the collapse. Right now, we're just trying to clear a path for wastewater to get out to what is now the septic pit. Think of more as pipes to an outhouse pit than anything else.

This may very well involve digging out the pit to some extent. What we *should* be doing is either getting a hookup to city sewage or getting a new septic system installed. However, there's no way in hell we can afford it. Looked into composting toilets; can't afford those either, and it wouldn't deal with being unable to use the shower or washing machine or dishwasher or any sink in the house whatsoever.

-beats head into desk- I'm really hoping that Louis' dad can help us come up with something that works, because we CANNOT replace the system right now.

I'm really starting to hate May, which fucking sucks, because I love spring.
omimouse: ('Concerned Citizens')
We went to the library today. I forget what we were talking about, but somewhere in the conversation in the car, it suddenly just hit me.

(Me)"Ebon's probably been raped by now, hasn't he?"
(Louis)"Unless someone is going to great lengths to keep him safe, yes."

I . . . don't know how I feel about this. I mean, I hate the man. For what he did to Cub, I hate him, and wish him a great deal of ill. But, I also firmly believe that if rape is somehow supposed to be the 'correct' punishment for rape of a child, then it should be part of the sentencing. For that matter, if rape is somehow the 'correct' punishment for going to prison, it should be part of the sentencing.

It isn't.

I keep wanting to weasel out of this; to make an 'exception' for Ebon. 'Well, I know *he* deserves it' kind of thing. And I keep running into my own ethics, which is a good thing, I hope. I can't justify it. Just because this was personal, that doesn't mean I get to break the rules for it. Yes, barring an appeal that isn't likely to happen, he is in prison for rape of a child for the next 50 years. No parole. Yes, what he did was wrong on levels that I shouldn't even have to explain.

But my ethics will not permit me to take any kind of joy in the knowledge that he himself has more than likely been raped by now. I want to take glee in his suffering. I want to feel happy that he is suffering in some small measure as he made Cub suffer. But I can't. I can't, because personal is not the same as important.

I just wish that this didn't feel like a massive betrayal of Cub. Or that it made my head and heart and stomach hurt so much.


Nov. 5th, 2010 01:45 am
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse dryad (Forest Mouse)
This is based around my shaman in WoW. Anyone familiar with the actual lore of WoW will be able to spot where I've changed and added to the shamanistic and orcish heritage/culture. This is why I don't RP much in the game itself; there are far too many people who would get very cranky at me for these changes.

Earth )
omimouse: Beatirx Potter mouse with a wicker basket on her arm (Domestic)
Pansexual, good at passing for heteronormative (hint: I'm not), and a few things that this day doesn't really cover.

And *really* nervous about the whole non-heteronormative bit. A good solid part of that is feeling that, since I'm so good at passing, stating myself as genderqueer-ish feels really close to appropriation. Which is something I'm sure transfolk just adore. ./sarcasm

But I sure as hell don't fit into the nice little gender binary box labeled '100% pure, Grade A female' anymore either.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
There was a request for something a little more detailed than, 'some of this and that'.

About 12 peaches, peeled, pitted, and somewhat chopped
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup to 1 cup vanilla vodka
A squeeze of lemon juice
A light dusting of cinnamon

Pour liquids into crockpot. Take peach pieces and mix them with sugar and cinnamon, making sure to get the peach well coated. Pour peach into crockpot. If you're the mouse, this is where you add some water because you're nervous about burning the peach to the crockpot. Put crockpot on 'low' and let it go for several hours, stirring off and on. And I do mean several hours here.

Puree results (I love my immersion blender) and store using method of your choice. (We have some of the Ball freezer containers.)
omimouse: Beatirx Potter mouse with a wicker basket on her arm (Domestic)
Sooo, peaches were on a really good sale this week. And I said to myself, I said, "Self, there was this really tasty looking post up a few months back about making peach butter." So I got out my nice sharp knives and my vegetable peeler and a cutting board and peeled and pitted and cut up something like two dozen peaches. They went into the crockpot, with some vanilla rum, a touch of lemon juice, some water, some sugar, and some cinnamon. Crock pot went to low for overnight.

Today, eating homemade bread with my peach butter slathered over it, all I can think is, 'Look on my food ye mighty, and *despair*'

Also, there is a ginormous pot of butternut squash soup that will go into an icewater bath as soon as people are finished grabbing bowls. Two of the squash that went into that came from my garden, and the chicken stock that I used was homemade. Later this week, I will be making spaghetti sauce with tomatoes that came from the garden.

Shrinking your carbon footprint is damn *tasty*.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
I have non public filters for a reason. There are things I talk about here, on those filters, that I haven't found a really good place elsewhere online that is populated by the people on those filters.

I'm pretty sure I'm fairly safe in all this, since the folks on my friends list seem one and all to respect the little lock symbol. This does not make this a good idea, or an okay idea, or anything less than me sitting over here facepalming over LJ's ability to piss everyone right the fuck off.

As a sidenote, for those new to me: My parents and sister are on Facebook. I love them very much, but there are details of my life I choose not to share with them, and I'm sure all four of us are happier for it.

Now that I have managed to be a thoroughly incoherent rambling mess, I am going to go eat dinner.
omimouse: ('Concerned Citizens')
Not that I expect the far right wing to pick up brains anytime soon, but if they have any, they'll shut up, sit down, leave the Prop 8 thing the hell alone, and not risk it going to the Supreme Court.

I expect them to be flaming morons however, and push it until it gets there, completely ignorant of the kind of precedent *that* ruling would set. Assuming the Court chooses to hear the case, of course.

Not that I would mind watching as their world comes crumbling down around their ears. Of course, seeing as how so few of them seem to be actually straight in the first place, one would hope that they'll be overjoyed at this ruling.

Sadly, internalized hatred is one of the nastier sorts.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
Nonny, I wish to offer you a thousand blessings for suggesting I take a Percoset with me today. Because, bloody fucking hell, I now have something by which all other pain will be gauged.

I had my post-partum check up and pap smear today. I also had an IUD put in. This is my first, and it will also be my last IUD, because nothing in my life has ever hurt this badly. I now know what it means to be in so much pain that you want to throw up. My cervix does not seem to relax easily, and my uterus does *not* approve of invasion. The steroid shots, the catheter, the magnesium sulfate drip, getting the Lidocaine shot in my spine, getting blood taken from the same spot every day for 10 days straight, the IV that went into my inner wrist . . . this hurts more than any of that did, and it hurts more by a very wide margin.

I took the Percoset about 5 minutes after they put the IUD in. Now, sitting at my desk with my feet up on the desk and keyboard somewhere in between being in my lap and across my upper thighs, the pain is down to an occasional twinge and mild crampy feeling. Which is the bitch of it. If it has just been the placement, or if the pain had started to fade after 5-10 minutes, that would have been one thing. Instead, my uterus was screaming at me at least half of the way home.

I was told I did very well in regards to them putting it in. I assume they mean that I managed to mostly hold still and not kick them or scream or make overly much other noise. Louis says that the skin around my eyes was turning white when we left the office.

At least now I know what it feels like, and can therefore make an educated choice on what method of birth control to use later in life. And oh sweet pharmaceutical gods, the Percoset is kicking in the rest of the way now. Remind me to set up a shrine to the wonders of modern medicine.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
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Yes. Mind you, I also firmly believe that we'd both learn how to shield so we weren't listening in on each other all the damn time.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
Throat scratchy and voice nearly gone. Chest heavy and starting to cough. Starting a cycle of starving/exhausted.

It's been over a year since I got sick, and now Louis and I are coming down with some bug or another at the same time.

omimouse: Night Elf from World of Warcraft; No one ever said elves are 'nice (Wyldsong)
Her right lung collapsed, and they couldn't get it to re-inflate. They called us, and we got there in time to hold her, and say good bye.

She had my eyes.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse dryad (Forest Mouse)
Hoping to be able to plant lilac by this time next year.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse dryad (Forest Mouse)
Home again. Feel bad for how much I needed to be home, when I have to leave Amber in the hospital. She's still doing good, no signs of any brain bleeds or organs not working. One of the nurses who works with her commented that while you can't say that anyone with this much equipment attached is doing 'great', Amber is, 'doing wonderful'. Nurse has 20 ish years of NICU experience under her belt, and seems pretty sure that little one is doing really good so far.

Still crying off and on. Back to babies and small children making my throat tighten and my heart hurt. Well aware that at least some of this is the hormones, but it's not like I don't have real things to be feeling very upset about. Scared and angry and upset about. One of the more mundane of those is that with the way they had to cut my uterus in the c-section, I can never go into actual labour. Any births from here on out are now automatically c-sections for me.

Amber's next milestone is in a few days, on Tuesday. She'll be a week old at that point, and if she can make it to that, her chances to keep on making it go up somewhat notably. We'll be calling the NICU every day, probably once in the morning and once in the evening. Don't have the gas money to be down there every day, and neither of us really feels emotionally up to staying in the Ronald McDonald House. Moot point anyway, as we live close enough to the hospital to not qualify for a room at the House.

It almost feels like a cruelty, how easily I am beginning to produce milk. Up until 10 days ago, whether or not I would be able to breastfeed was my main concern about the pregnancy. Sure, I was uneasy about the high blood pressure, but I was sure that it would turn out like my mom's pregnancy with me had.

The next month is going to be the hardest, I think. After that, we'll still be worried and scared, of course. It's just that her chances will be so much incredibly better by then.

Louis will likely have the more frequent updates right now.
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
And we have achieved milk production!

Now I need to find out how my milk needs to make it to the NICU.
omimouse: Night Elf from World of Warcraft; No one ever said elves are 'nice (Fairy Tales)
Getting out of bed for the first time since the c-section . . . whoof.

It's not so much that it's a sharp pain as it is a steady ache that gets stronger whenever I start to use those muscles. Still, between that and worry about pulling on either set of stitches, I'm moving very slowly indeed right now. If my internet research is to be believed, this should get much easier over the next few days. Or at least ache less.


Gonna try and get in to see Amber tonight, since they finally took me off the magnesium drip and the catheter. Louis brought me her little foot print card. My pinky finger is longer than just one of her little feet. She's just so *tiny*.

Still scared and facing the double-fronts of recovering from the surgery and feeling mostly helpless as my little girl fights for her life. Also pumping my breasts every 2-3 hours in the hopes that my body will catch on, as breast milk is one of the few concrete things I can do for her right now.

Dealing with hormonal bounces on top of all the normal reactions to this kind of thing. Reminding myself that her being stable at all right now is a massive good sign, that this is a little fighter. Scared that she'll hang onto life and make it through this only to wind up with something debilitating later in life. The long-term issues she could have to deal with range from fairly benign (slight vision/hearing problems or not catching up to her peers developmentally until about 3-5 years of age) to flat out terrifying (the potential for lasting and severe brain damage, and any of the disorders associated with that). In between is stuff that will make life harder, but not be impossible to deal with, like asthma, blindness, deafness, various muscular disorders, you name it.

Or she could wind up with any combination of the above. Or none of them. Hells, this is all based off of the desperate hope that she lives, even though I'm trying not to think about that too much.

Take after your daddy, little one. You've already surprised the entire NICU staff at this hospital. Take after your daddy and raise those little middle fingers to the odds and the deck stacked against you, just to prove that no one should say something isn't possible. Take after your daddy and be a stubborn streak of pure will that doesn't give up on anything, ever. Take perverse delight in shocking and surprising and upending the entire freakin' neo-natal section of this hospital, little girl.

Take after your daddy, Amber. Take after your daddy and stay with me.


May. 19th, 2010 08:56 am
omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)
We've had some people asking for a donation link, regarding Baby Amber.
My husband has a post up with a link, here.

Amber Rose Meredith Adkins was born by C-section on Tuesday, May 18, 2010, at 9:43 AM, EST. The blood flow to the baby started to reverse itself (PreE) so she had to be removed 15 weeks early. She weighs 11.5 ounces. When they took her out, she managed a few breaths on her own, and cried. (good sign) They were able to tube her with the second smallest tube, so if there is swelling we have a fallback option. Her blood sugar and blood pressure were low, but they have (so far) been able to manage that. The staff is amazed at how she's doing, and if she can survive past day 3 her chances will go up.


omimouse: Digital painting of a mouse wielding a spear (Default)

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