Merry Christmas!

From all the fam...

Rest In Peace, Scooter

I loved you a lot and my heart is breaking but the necrotizing pancreatitis left your insides too far gone for there to be anything but a few days of suffering left for you.

Hurry Up And Wait

Exploratory surgery.  There's something blocking Scooter's intestines and they can't tell what it is from sonograms and x-rays.  And so I sit tapping my fingers and waiting for the vet to call while my stomach ties itself in knots, knowing that one option is that it's cancer and he shouldn't be woken up.

You Know How You Save For Christmas?

All year.  I do.  And I stick to that budget.  And I also save the money I will need for holiday traveling.  So proud of myself.

But I'm currently at the local animal hospital with my cat Scooter and the bill is already $1500.  And they aren't even sure what's wrong yet other than he's anemic and his white blood cell count is through the roof.

Talk about a budget buster.  I save for vet bills, too.  But at check-up and inoculation level.  Not emergency hospitalization level.

So, I've Been Thinking...

I swore that you could put a gun to my head and I still wouldn't vote for a Democrat.  I'd write in Mickey Mouse first.  But it does occur to me that as a registered Independent I can ask for whatever ballot I please for the primary elections.  Which means I could ask for a Democrat ballot and vote for the weakest candidates.  Gotta think about that.

Works For Me

Got a new bishop a few months ago.  Comes from Montgomery County, MD.  The place I fled.  He has been making pastoral visits to introduce himself.  While most people are probably just glad to get a bishop who isn't slapping seminarian butts and stealing our money to fund the high life, I wondered how many in my WV congregation caught his reference to "common sense gun control" in his homily.  And if anyone has pointed out that this is WV, not a Stupid State, and that he was surrounded by guns at every Mass and as we greeted him afterward.

BWAHAHAHAHA

Took me a minute but then it clicked.

OUT!

My chemo port.  Finally.  Every time my hand brushed my throat and I felt the tube that fed into a vein it creeped me out.

Contemplating saving my pennies and eventually incorporating the scar in a small Celtic tree of life tattoo.