fredericks

My room used to be clean. A little over two weeks ago I shuffled and sorted through all the papers lying on the floor and cluttering my desk, tied the recyclables up in a neat little bundle and put the items with personal info in a pile to be shredded. While I was tidying up my brother poked his head in and asked how long I thought it'd last. He put money on one week, I said one day. I guess we both lost, although it's still pretty sad all around.

The mess means I'm not functioning at full capacity, as my personal space is a fairly good indicator of how well I'm dealing with stressors. That being said, I'm feeling okay, and "okay" doesn't mean "omigod I feel like crap, don't talk to me, emoemoemo"; it's a genuine "I'm doing satisfactorily" [and that's not even a word, is it?]. School, usually my main source of angst, is challenging but has yet to cross the line over to torture. The first clinical practical was pass/fail, and I passed that with little problem. The first exam is this Wednesday, and I'm a little more worried about it. So worried, in fact, that I haven't sat down to seriously study since the weekend started. That will be shortly remedied.

We're a small group so we all more or less know each other and get along. I might even have found a friend, along with the queue of acquaintances I always end up making (as I sing "Everyone knows my name, but nobody knows meeeeee/ emoemoemo"). It's odd, because I spent the first couple of days of classes attracted to her and didn't want to fall into the trap of looking like an idiot around her...hence I attempted to avoid her. That plan didn't seem to work out, and she won me over to the friend side when she said that "[I'm] always smiling at everyone", a revelation since I've always heard that I rarely smile and I look too severe. We spend time together doing friend-like stuff (I take her down to the Seaport, she tells me about Chinese culture and shows me various characters, we run up and down the halls of the school singing Queen's "Best Friend", things of that nature). I'm wondering how long this will last, as I'm a creature who needs space and my friend track record is spotty.

Anywhozit, I had no class on Friday since hospital clinicals start this week and my clinical is on Monday. Friday started out with a trip to the vet to get some more pain meds for Krishna. I was stuck going with mother, since my brother was a punk and didn't want to get up early in the morning (and this wasn't even early; we left the house around 10). The vet I dealt with when I got the diagnosis wasn't there so I had to go through some hassle to get the pills, with the techs speaking to the senior vet on duty. Once that guy found out Krishna had osteosarcoma he called me into the room to attempt to explain the diagnosis and blah blah blah it's bad. I told him I knew, and then he kept pressing the point about putting Krishna down when things get bad. I got pissed (internally; I still kept my manners) and felt like he was saying I was doing Krishna a disservice by having her alive even now, which...I mean, I don't think so. Maybe I got mad because I don't know if I'll be able to say "when", and have been consciously trying to avoid the fact that I'm going to have to bring my dog in so some people who don't know her from Fefe can send her to Doggie Heaven.

I got back to the car after all of this and was fine until I talked to my mom. My mother is a (occasionally) wonderful woman, would give her right arm and left tit for her kids, but has NO IDEA how to deal with people on an emotional level. When I told her the vet said I'd have to bring Krishna in when her quality of life degenerated, she chimed in "well, she hasn't been looking good for a while now" (not true, since we left Krishna running around the yard like a damn fool) and then, when I started crying she said "you can always get another dog" which...WRONG TO SAY and not true; my folks would never allow me to get another dog once Krishna passed, since I catch enough flack for her using the backyard as a latrine. She continued, going on about how dying is a way of life and I just wanted to remind her that she never feels that way when a person she knows has died. But, you know, tears and all. And I knew it was pointless trying to talk to her.

The rest of the day found me with a major headache and a haircut. The two are unrelated, except for the fact that no one in my family noticed or commented on either. I was slightly miffed, particularly about the haircut being ignored, but I guess I should have expected as much. It's nice to not have a weight of hair on the nape of my neck and yet still be able to throw it all in a ponytail when I feel too lazy to style it (which is basically every day).

Saturday I went to Project HAPPY and instantly wished I was home. They had more than enough help there and I felt a little out-of-place. I'm not getting paid so I technically don't have to go anymore, but, you know. I ended up staying only until 12:30 and calling it a day. First I said I wasn't going to go back at all. I was all resolute...until I ran into one of the kids I worked with last year. She'd arrived late and didn't get time in the bowling alley. She ended up going down there as I was heading up the stairs in the opposite direction, to leave. When I told her I was going she made this sad face only kids and pets can muster, and then asked if I was going to come back next week. Before I stopped myself I said "sure". Annoyed grunt. I also told the assisting director I'd be back, all the while NOT wanting to come back. I guess I'll decide how I feel on the matter come next Thursday.

On the way back from PH I finished Anansi Boys. Cute tale, and I got a kick out of all the West Indian references. I'm trying to push the book onto my mother, but my aunt expressed interest once she found out Anansi was in it ("I thought that was only a Trinidadian thing") and that there was WI stuff in it. I may find some Gaiman converts yet. What was with the lime joke? I kept feeling like I missed something. Oh well.

I should be sleeping, since I do have to wake up early for church. I keep meaning to write about it, but, you know - slippery mind and all.

Whee! One-hit wonderage!

My dog is sick. She doesn't act it, but her head's lopsided, with the right upper portion swollen to an unusual size, the right side of her jaw practically immobile, and the left upper head portion slightly sunken in. I didn't notice the head problem until Saturday. She'd been having problems eating for at least the last five days, maybe before. I wouldn't know - my brothers are the ones responsible for feeding her and when I asked one of them why Krishna (said dog) hadn't been fed a couple of days ago his answer was "she doesn't eat, so why bother feeding her?" How long they've been neglecting to even bother to put food out I don't know. Not that you'd notice immediately; Krishna's on the chunky side (I like to call her "pleasantly plump").

I told my folks about the Krishna's misshapen head on Sunday, because apparently no one else had noticed it. I figured, since they more or less act blase towards her medical care we wouldn't end up taking her to the vet until Tuesday, giving me enough time to call out from work and swing by the vet so I could get some tranqs for her (Krishna's traditionally been less than pleasant when dealing with the guys in the white coats). I called the vet first and actually made the appointment for Tuesday, but once I told the receptionist that Krishna wasn't eating (an exaggeration on my part - she wasn't eating the hard food we usually gave her but could manage things like french fries, chicken, and rice) the woman was quick to make time for me on Monday. I figured once I told my mother about the Monday appointment she'd start bitching me out, so I was surprised to have her ask me why I hadn't tried to make an appointment for the same day (Sunday). I think I would have if I'd have thought anyone would have taken me. The things you learn after the fact, huh? Of course, her next words were "the dog could die", something I hadn't bothered to think about so, yeah, I was feeling pretty scared shitless afterwards.

Fastforward to today. I had to e-mail my boss and tell her I couldn't make it to my notetaking gigs because I had to take my dog to the vet (my exact wording was "my dog is ill"; I opted out of throwing any adjectives in there, in case she thought I was lying or at least trying to be overly dramatic), an excuse that really only has an effect on a pet owner. I felt bad about not being there for my student, but there was no way I wasn't going to go to the damned vet with Krishna. My mother had a prior engagement that she couldn't seem to back out of, so my brother ended up taking us out there. We ran into problems just getting Krishna into the van for the first time. She has leg problems (I find it somewhat cute that we both have screws and plates in a leg: hers in her left hind and mine in my right) and they seem to be getting worse, which is another thing I have to worry about. I mean, usually she can manage jumping into the van, but today the jump was too much. After 20 minutes of coaxing (with bacon, no less) we ended up removing a seat and using it as a step.

We got to the vet, and she was surprisingly well-behaved for the doctor. The doc ended up guessing that it might be a tooth infection with an abcess that spread up (under) the mandibular musculature (that was actually one of my early guesses) or ...cancer. It's funny: while my brother and I were outside the vet waiting to be called for our appointment two women came outside with their dog and started talking about its diagnosis, inadvertently sharing with us that their cute miniature pooch had some sort of cancer. My brother and I looked at Krishna then looked at each other; he wore an expression that was indescribable, and I'm pretty sure my own was similar. Doing our usual thing we started cracking jokes, and fell back on impersonating Arnold Schwarzenegger from Kindergarten Cop "It is not a tu-mah!" but it wouldn't leave my mind. It'd been thinking tumor since Sunday, actually, but I tried my best to forget it and not freak out.

And I didn't "freak out" exactly, but I did end up crying when we returned for Krishna in the evening and the doctor told me that he still wasn't sure what was wrong with her but that cancer of either the bone or the brain was still a possibility. It wasn't like he said "yes, it is definitely cancer" but just the thought of it being "the big C" had me not feeling too hot. I wasn't even thinking about Krishna dying. Or, rather, that wasn't the sole thing I was thinking about. It was the combination of trying to deal with whatever she might have (a localized degenerative muscle disorder is still a possible diagnosis) and being utterly helpless to make everything better for the one creature in the world who appears to love me unconditionally.

Money and lack thereof plays a big part in my tumultuous emotions at the moment. A reason why I was initially hesitant to tell my folks about what was wrong with Krishna was because they're always (understandably) bitching about lack of funds. I couldn't bear the thought of my mom ranting about "how much money the dog is costing us", but I didn't know she'd show all that care and concern. I still get a warm feeling thinking about her reaction. Anyways, since I seem to still be a go on my scholarship money and the fucking Hunter woman says she's mailed out my internship pay (we're in the process of playing the "but I mailed it out!"/"I have yet to receive it" game, always fun) there's a chance I'll come into $2K by October. That might just cover the bulk of Krishna's immediate medical bills. I ended up activating a credit card I've had for 6 years and had been saving for a rainy day in order to pay today's charges which, for a biopsy, anesthesia, medication, and various fees, came up to $610. Lord knows how much whatever else needs to be done is going to cost. I'm praying I don't get screwed over with any of my eggs because the chicken is, in this case, my dog. I can't say I'm happy with not being able to get the new PC this semester (I really wanted to be able to relax with Sims 2 over winter break) but hopefully I'll get enough back for winter term to get it then.

So I'm tired. And worn out. And ANGRY. I've been angry for a good bulk of today. Angry at the Hunter woman for not getting me my check when she said she would, angry the post office for fucking up my mail again and maybe sending the check (if it was mailed out) somewhere else, angry at Pace for being major dicks when it comes to the workings of their financial aid (how the hell am I supposed to get my books and uniforms??), angry at various persons and acquaintances for pretty petty and ridiculous reasons, angry at my aunt for making a flip comment about my dog, and, mainly, angry at myself. I keep thinking I missed something, that things had to progress to this point. I don't have enough money and I'm going to be scrabbling to keep above water during this first semester. I might lose this creature that reminds me of myself, all bristly and anti-social and limpy. And I'm worrying about an "if", just because she's bald on the side of her head that's grossly misshapen and she has stitches. It's an "if", nothing's definite. I just feel like if I lose her I'll be really alone right now. And the suckage of that cannot be fully put into words.
*

Please, no "hugs". I really dislike those.