change

These past 2 weeks....ok a wee more than that...have had a steady dark cloud over my "circle of life"

Death

The unexpected death of the daughter of a dj I only know from our 5min smiles exchanged each Monday morning...I was shocked to find a tear rolling down my cheek as I read the email.

The long-anticipated death of the young daughter of a good acquaintance of mine. Since I still vividly remember it, I guess I'll never forget that sunny Saturday afternoon in that park on Riverside/Victory. After the Sacred Fools "retreat". Sitting on a park bench with her dad and Joe Jordan. Watching her in awe of the small green grasshopper on her arm. Lizzie was a bright beautiful flower in the middle of my grey life at that time.

My cat wobbling on my patio - reminding me his days with me will be short.

The woman for whom I babysat for 8 years was found dead in her sleep 2 weeks ago. Last Wednesday I suddenly had a strong feeling about that family...feeling guilty I'd not made contact with the family in 5 years thinking "oh no! I wonder if the father is ok?! I need to contact them before he dies so I can make sure both the parents know how much I appreciated them in my life!" Last Friday I got the call from my mother that the funeral was a week ago.

sigh

Today I learned a good friend is now so alcoholic she's slowly killing herself with the alcohol she consumes nearly 12 hours a day. Calling her vet panicked her white mouse has black spots. The vet explaining to her, while washing the spots off, that their orgin is a marker, not disease. She called 2 days later panicked with the same black spots on the same mouse. I remember all the fun I had with her 10 years ago. And her 10 cats. And how 8 of them were under 2years old. And us laughing about how, in 10 years, she better be a millionaire to have the time/money to care for 8 geriatric cats! and now I wonder what's happening to poor Willow...does Julie notice him anymore? Does she care? I'm both releived and feeling guilty for pulling away from Julie when I felt alcohol was too important to her. From the description our vet and friend gave me, it sounds like the Julie who lit up many days and nights for me is now dead on the floor of some bar in lincoln park.

and the CD that was playing when I began this depressing rag is strangely appropriate for where my mind and heart has been recently

battery acid

Just extricated myself from an oppressive, abusive environment.

Sometimes you wish you never learned something about someone...

2 words to describe my former housemate:
Battery
Acid

He knows what that means. I have the scars on my hands to remind me.

I'm still unpacking. Bringing my lingerie drawers and pillow to the police. Mailing my key to my former landlord. Enjoying watching my 16yr cat being playful for the first time in over a year.

more later

how much do we need?

more wise words from my rabbi.....

I know people whose homes are so large most of the rooms sit unused from one year to the next. They own more cars than they drive, more clothes than they wear, make more money than they can spend. Whatever security or exhilaration this affords, it is a painful commentary on the grandiosity that overrides generosity and empathy.

Tolstoy wrote a short story entitled: “How much land does a man need?” It tells of a Russian who travels to Bashkirs, a tribe in hinterlands. They offer to give him as much land as he can cover on foot in one day. Impatiently, the man starts a frenetic journey. He covers as much ground as he can, never pausing, never resting. As the sun sets, he dies of exhaustion. In the end, the amount of land he gets is a six foot plot of earth as a final resting place.

The Rabbis of the Midrash teach us that a baby is born with a closed fist, as if to say, “there is so much to grasp in this world.” The old man dies with his hand open, as if to say, “I can take nothing with me.” Wisdom and goodness lie in opening our hands before death opens them for us.

the wait continues....or...how to live on no sleep

I love my veterinarian-

She was comedically honest about her failure with Misha yesterday.

"I could give you a long list of reasons why I never got to his abdominal tap today, but.....well....bottom line is there's STILL no excuse he got forgotten"

So he spent today at the hospital. She came in on her day off JUST for him. And called me right after her doctor appointment.

No answers from the abdominal tap! oy

I think I slept about 3 hours last night. Maybe 5 the night before.

So he's set to come back to the hospital next Wednesday for an ultra-sound.




Last night I did some research and discovered that mysterious disease she mentioned last night but I couldn't understand is actually a disease I know quite a bit about-- more commonly known as FIP. A cat's life expectancy after exposure is 2-11months. I was 90ure this is what he has as it matched all his symptoms and, well, symptoms show up about 2 weeks after exposure. It can only be contracted through contact with an infected cat. And it was 2 months 2 weeks ago I last caught him roaming about the neighborhood (long story- ugh). So it all made sense.

But today the test came up with nothing! And he's perky, happy, playful and eating like a machine! (cuz machines eat a lot. and verociously. if verocious is a word. you may not know this, but they really do)

So his doctor is optimistic and I'm optimistic.

oh- did I happen to mention I love my veterinarian? She ended our call today with "ok, you've got my cell number. If there's any trouble during my days off, you know where to find me"

Misha's so lucky

and I'm luckier.

Thanks to everyone who thought good wishes for him today......we're both very lucky to know you-

I'd go on but...Misha has some more high-calorie, yummy to devour and I have a new South Park episode to watch!

where's that faith again??

So my best buddy, Misha, spent today at the hospital getting x-rays.

The doctor just called to apologize for forgetting to do an abdominal tap.

There's fluid in his abdomin.

She said this could be a syptom of disease- liver. Or some crazy, 13word disease I didn't understand coming from her lips.

I'm dropping him off..AGAIN..tomorrow to spend the day at the hospital.

She's coming in on her day off just for him (and me).

If you're reading this, could you take 30 seconds to think some good thoughts his (my) way?

He's 16 years old and never had to be on any medication other than antibiotics --- maybe 3 times in his long life? ok, and that brief need for Vita K after the rat poison scare 13 years ago.

If you've ever had a geriatric animal, this is miraculous -- him not needing medication.

So why am I complaining?

I guess G*d is forcing me to open my eyes and see the reality.

The mortality.

My best buddy is very old and may be leaving soon.

sigh

getting what you want when it really counts

I have a cat, Misha, who will turn 16 this March....if he survives.

He's been with me since he was 8 weeks old...I fondly remember holding him in the shelter. He fit in my hand, his 6 inch skinny tail wrapped up so he could clutch it and chew on the end- he was my little monkey.

I remember him climbing the Christmas tree every year. Every night, I'd come home to find my tree rattling in my apartment, fir needles ting ting tingling to the floor and a little black furry shadow clinging to the branches in the middle.

I remember him sitting so politely on the floor next to my chair at the Thanksgiving dinner table at my mother's...knowing his patience would pay off with a plate of turkey and mashed potatos made just for him.

I remember him batting at snowflakes falling past the windows of our little studio apartment in Lincoln Park.

He's been all over with me. Survived some pretty crappy living situations. Some horrendous situations. He's really been my best (and sometimes my only) friend for 15 1/2 years.

Somehow he trusts me 100%; Have you ever had that pleasure? It's quite extraordinary. I can do anything to him- 12 years ago, after discovering he'd gotten into a cabinet holding a box of rat poison, I rushed him to his doctor, who promptly gave me these big nasty capsules of Vita K for him. All I had to do was hold the capsule in my hand and he'd lick it up eagerly. He truly trusts that whatever I do, it's for his best interests. He totally and completely trusts I will always protect him from any harm-- it's overwhelming and comforting simultaneously.

So he's had a rough year and I've been beating myself up for not protecting him as much as he needed apparently. I couldn't afford to board him at his vet when I was out of town 5 different times this year. That really killed me to leave him home alone each time. On top of that, about 6 months ago, I discovered something terrible that was happening to him....and I discovered he'd lost 2 pounds (a LOT for a 10lb geriatric cat). Normally I'd rush him to the vet for extensive testing, but again, money prevented this. I've spent the past 6 months saving and planning to bring him in only for unexpected expenses to pummle my "misha account"--- 6-week notice of an out of town wedding in my family, immediately followed by a month of unexpected unemployment--- I knew the longer I went without getting him checked, the deeper in danger he got.

This past month he's dropped a ton of weight and last weekend I kept finding him in wierd parts of my home just staring blankly not knowing where he was or how he got there.

I did some research and what I found- "dimentia is not old age. It's a symptom of a serious problem, including hyperthyroidism, renal failure, diabetes..."

my heart shattered- If only I'd been able to board him during those 5 trips I took this year- If only I'd been able to bring him in sooner.

I failed my baby

So Monday I called the vet, explained my financial situation, begged the accountant to let me bring him on my day off Tuesday.

That night, I curled up Misha in my arms, under the covers, and cried while begging G*d with all my heart and soul to please make this something managable...not renal failure, not diabetes....and please bring me money to pay for it all so Misha's well-being would no longer be sabotaged by finances.

I got 2 job interviews Tuesday- both companies love me. Both pay very well. A voice-over director of a job I recorded a year ago called me in for a "pick-up" booking for Wednesday. Seems the client preferred my voice to one of the male actors in the original cast, so I was brought back to record his lines. Yes, more money. I submitted my first reviews for a Nightlife Website -- these would determine if they'd give me more assignments and pay me. They loved my writing and sent me 8 more clubs to review....yes paying!

I got the call from the vet Wednesday. Blood, urine, fecal...all 100% normal! I'm astounded there's no kidney damage. We're both astounded a 15 1/2 yr-old cat has 100% normal blood-- this is almost unheard of.

She recommends a re-check in a month and plenty of high-calorie food (kitten or prescription) and a lot of love.

I checked my bank account. Looks like, even after Tuesday's $400 vet bill, I'll have some spare change after my November rent payment. Which means I'll have MORE spare change near the end of November. Which means I can afford to have Misha stay at the hospital when I go home for Thanksgiving, so he can be surrounded by 24/7 professional care vs. last year's 10 minutes daily of my friend checking his water bowl.

Or maybe I'll take him to my mother's house in Chicago this year for some mom-made turkey and mashed potatoes and sweet-potato pie.

And the annual real Christmas tree.

And some snow.

And I just got another reminder on how f*cking cool faith can be.

And how important my kraceevee maleenkee malcheek is to me-

For those of you lucky enough to have a long-term relationship with an animal, I wish you the very same extraordinary luck I had this week.

Cheers-

DON'T LET MACY'S KILL MARSHALL FIELDS!!!

as a proud former Marshall Fields elf (yes, sedaris and I could swap some good stories), I can't let Macy's kill off my favorite, 140yr Chicago landmark, department store!

help save Marshall Fields!

Save Marshall Fields!