Yesterday morning, I had breakfast with friends (cat-lovin’ friends, so there was plenty of talk about poop and worms and such at breakfast, of course, which always makes me laugh. I know it sounds gross, but there’s very little you can talk about at a meal that will put me off my feed these days.). Before I left the house, I noticed that I seemed a bit colder than the weather (mid-30s warranted), and while I was eating breakfast, I was REALLY cold despite the fact that I could feel the warm air coming down from the vent nearby. Then on the way home, I had the heat turned up full-blast and wondered why I was so cold, and suddenly the light bulb went on over my head, and I felt my forehead.
When I got home, I took my temperature with the new thermometer, and it read 99.9. Then I took my temperature with the OLD thermometer, and it read 100.3. Then a few minutes later, I used the new thermometer again, and it read 100.4.
So even though they couldn’t seem to agree on the exact number, it was clear I had a damn fever along with some lovely chills. I also felt really, really tired and had a headache. I took some Tylenol and then called Fred to discuss whether I should call my gynecologist to report the fever. I had no other symptoms that the piece of paper they gave me before I left the hospital listed, and I just KNEW if I called the office they’d want me to come in, and I had NO desire to schlep my ass all the way across Huntsville, given the way I felt.
Ultimately, we decided that I should go take a nap and see if the Tylenol would bring my fever down.
I got my bottle of water and was going to head to the living room to lay down on the couch under my electric throw, when I noticed that there were four cats gathered around the wash stand, in the dining room. From under the wash stand, I could hear a cat banging around and growling. At first I figured that one of the cats had a toy he was protecting from the other cats, and almost walked away. I decided to make sure it wasn’t something more, and I was about to get on my hands and knees and look under the wash stand, when Jake shot out, a huge fucking vole in his mouth. He was going to run down the hallway, saw me, and changed course into the kitchen.
“Really?” I said grumpily to the other cats. “We NEEDED another good hunter in the house? You think? I blame you,” I said to Newt. When I’d gotten home, Newt was out in the side yard watching a vole run around, and occasionally pouncing on it. I opened the door and called him inside, and he’d come in willingly enough. The vole ran off in the direction of the driveway, and I figured it would run across the driveway and into the foliage between the garage and workshop. Apparently, instead, it ran into the back yard and into the jaws of Jake. (Fred, by the way, is SO proud of Loony Jake and his huntin’ ways.)
I followed Jake into the kitchen. He went to the corner near the sink, dropped the vole, then snatched it up again by the scruff, and growled at me. I grabbed Jake by the scruff, shuddered, grabbed the vole by the tail, and Jake released it.
This vole, I’m telling you, was a big motherfucker. We’re seeing a lot of big voles lately, it seems. I guess baby vole season hasn’t started yet. Its body was bigger than my fist. But I had it by the tail (UGH) and carried it out beyond the garage and let it go.
I got inside, grabbed my bottle of water, and headed for the living room. I got my heated throw, turned it on, and started to lay down on the couch, when I smelled the distinctive smell that drives me to a homicidal rage.
Someone had peed somewhere.
I spent the next ten minutes sniffing every damn inch of my couch before I found that one of the pillows had been peed upon. I gathered up all the pillows, tossed them in the washer, told all the cats that I hated them, resniffed the couch, determined that the source of the smell was gone, and was just about to lay down when Fred called to see how I was doing. I took my temperature, and it had gone down to the mid-90s. It continued to drop down to normal (my temperature regularly runs about 97.2) and never came back.
I continued to feel really sleepy all afternoon, so I mostly sat on the couch and watched TV (I would really love to know how the holy fuck they’re going to wrap up Lost in the next 10 episodes, given that the storylines seem to be meandering with no forward motion lately). Last night, we watched 24, which I completely slept through, and Survivor, which I did not.
I slept pretty well last night, and this morning I feel perfectly fine.
Very weird.
(And yes, if the chills and fever come back, I’ll go to the doctor. I promise!)
I saw this on People of Walmart. I wonder if anyone ever submitted a picture of you when you’re buying 80 lbs of kitty litter.
Better watch your back!
I only check out People of Walmart occasionally, so I’m actually not sure – do they only post pictures of people in Walmart, or do they include other stores? Because if it’s Walmart only, I’m safe – I get my litter at Sam’s! 🙂
And 80 lbs of cat litter? I WISH I only bought 80 pounds at a time. It’s more like 400 pounds at a time! I seem to recall (though I’m too lazy to go looking for it) posting a picture once of the inside of the back of my car with 10 40-pound buckets of litter, two huge bags of cat food, and another ton of canned cat food.
If you guys see a picture of me posted on People of Walmart or elsewhere, you better tell me!
Is it just me, or is this Mr. MFSW and a room full of partying cheerleaders?
If it is him, way to spend your interweb photo royalty checks, Grandpa!
For comparison purposes, Mr. “Motherfucker say what?!”:
I had severe endo too, and they had to switch to abdominal incision from the laparoscopic because of this. This was 4 yrs ago and it’s the best thing I could have done! I’m on bio-identical hormones. Have you decided on which kind of hormones? Or is your head spinning at the thought of that so soon??!!
Right now, I’m on an estrogen patch and progesterone cream and feeling good, but I’m reading about my options. I finished The Hormone Solution the other day, and just started What Your Doctor Might Not Tell You About Menopause this morning. At this point, I’m much preferring the latter to the former, mostly because I’m disturbed by the fact that Dr. Erika Schwartz (the doctor/ author who wrote the first book) “prescribes” Progesterone cream in the following dose: 5-7 mg per kg of body per day. When I figured that out, it was 360 mg of Progesterone per day. The conventional wisdom (and what Dr. John Lee, the late doctor/ co-author of the second book and pioneer in the field of bioidentical hormones) “prescribes” is 20 mg per day. Needless to say, that’s a huge difference.
But anyway, I’m going to keep reading, and discuss it all with my doctor at my 6-week checkup!
You need some of these!
Indeed I do!
do you follow “shit my dad says” on twitter? if you’re not, you should really check it out. in any case, that old curmudgeon in the photo sort of looks like the shit my dad says guy!
I do follow that guy on Twitter, and it usually makes me laugh. And you’re right, I see the resemblance!
After my hysterectomy, and despite my 9″ incision, I was feeling good pretty quickly. I asked my doctor if I could do more than he’d originally given me permission to do. He gave me some great advice, which is that after major surgery, your body heals at a rate of approximately 10% per week. So even tho I was feeling 75% better, my body had only healed 10%. And just in case I still thought I knew better, he told me that the result of over-doing it could be herniating my incision and having to start over with the staples. Needless to say, I stayed put. Argh.
Herniating my incision is my biggest fear! I am definitely taking it easy, but also REALLY looking forward to the next three weeks being over and getting the clearance from my doctor to get back to business as usual. I’m enjoying the downtime, but it’s kind of starting to get old!
Can I tell you my horror story of stuff in the wall, can I, can I??? Anywho, last summer, we kept hearing sounds in the wall and ceiling. We thought they were bats. We figured first frost, they’d go away. Ummmm, nope. After hearing fluttering in the wall that turned into purring noises, we called the exterminator. We had a yellow jacket nest about 6 ft wide by 2 ft tall in the wall over the doorway to our kitchen. The purring noise was all bajillion and one of them buzzing their wings at the same time to cool the nest. Yeah. SUCK! So $1200 later and our house is pest free. For now.
That is the CREEPIEST (and yet COOLEST) story EVER.
Pictures, please?
What do you guys do to keep the dogs’ fur from matting with all the dirt and outdoor living?
Fred brushes them pretty regularly, which seems to do the trick (and you should SEE the amount of hair he gets off them!). They do very occasionally get a mat, and we carefully clip out the mat with small scissors.
What amazes me about the dogs is how incredibly dirty they get, and then the next morning you see them, and they’re absolutely pristine. I always say their fur must be made of Teflon. The dirt slides right off!
I live with my sister, and she’s the “handyman” of the house. This sounds exactly like something I would of said. “Oh yeah… she brought in a CHAINSAW to cut a hole in the wall.” LOL!!!
For those of you who didn’t see Fred’s comment, he didn’t bring a circular saw in to cut through the wall, it was a jig saw. IN MY DEFENSE, the handles on the jig saw and the circular saw are very similar, and I guess I didn’t look that closely at the saw – just saw the handle, and my brain filled in the rest, erroneously.
Personally, I think cold snaps, but warm spells.
That’s right, warm SPELL is what I was looking for. Doesn’t “cold snap” make it sound like the cold is a living thing that comes up and flicks you on the nose and runs away giggling while you’re sputtering and trying to figure out what just happened?
…do you mind being facebook friends with your readers? Or do you reserve it for people you really know? (In other words, if I try to friend you, it won’t freak you out, will it?)
I love to be Facebook friends with my readers! And I’m not that easily freaked out. 🙂 You can find me on Facebook here. I don’t update my status all that often, but I enjoy checking out everyone else’s!
Stinkerbelle in one of her rare un-hatin’ moments.
Previously
2009: DAMNIT.
2008: Q. What is the last heavy item you lifted? A. Miz Poo!
2007: “Yeah, it’s really fleein’ the interview,” Fred said.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: You suppose they’d mind if I went over after dark and pressed my face up against the window to see what’s going on?
2003: Maybe I should go for the dreadlocks look…
2002: Any resemblance to persons living or dead are completely coincidental. I don’t fart.
2001: every Mulvaney shat gold upon command three times a day.
2000: Here at casa bitchypoo, we believe in extremely lazy Sundays.