I want to give thanks for all the support I have received over Georgie-Porgy fat'n'fluffy. It felt like I had people from all around the world with me this afternoon when I was doing really difficult stuff. I have buried her in the back yard with some flowers the pet taxi driver E picked when she was walking dogs this morning. Spooky, the black cat from down the road kept me company.
I am sad, but not unhappy.
I handed in her expensive medication so another cat can benefit (Georgie had been the recipient of free meds, when other cats died, so I was happy to donate it) and tomorrow I will take her packets of food to The Cats' Protection League (we had more than usual as it was on 'Special' a couple of weeks ago.
I'm keeping her large water bowl in the back yard as cats from all over use it - kind of like an African watering hole.
Giving thanks for having - once again - successfully mended the innards of my cheapo kitchen lappie. It's a fiddly ole thing, was second-hand anyway, but does its job keeping me company when cooking.
I opened it according to the manual (yes, I did RTFM!), extensively cleaned it according to best practice, and it works again and is much happier now temperature-wise. Cleaning the fan helps.
I'm posting this just little thing in the order of all things to give thanks coz although I'm sorta knowledgeable, I was more calm this time round than previously, and much better prepared to perform the surgery. More calmness helps you concentrate, and be matter-of-factually about it. Maybe I'm growing up a bit, after all?
P&T for safe travels and successful surgery yesterday! We went on the train, rather than risk driving, which was a great success, and the surgery - although unpleasant - was bearable AND successful! The snow held off until after bedtime, so everyone would have got where they were going,
This morning I can see to the trees beyond the garden, and snow is most dazzlingly white!
Dear Mrs S. I remember sitting on a lochside with a man who had had similar surgery. He had been telling me about the history of the area and then he said "Do you see that patch of snow up there?" I said I did, waiting for the story about it. He replied with infinite satisfaction "So do I!" Enjoy your sight.
I was born with cataracts and after my first surgery (at 17) I had a contact lens fitted. My dad came with me (we lived in Orkney and it had to be done in Aberdeen) and when the optician put the lens in my eye, I said "I can see!"* and I'll never forget the look on Dad's face.
When D's mum had hers done, apparently the first thing she said when she got home was "goodness, I must clean those curtains!".
* I hadn't been completely blind, but everything was suddenly so much more in focus: things like the texture of my cord jeans and the pattern on the lino floor.
I have every sympathy with D's Mum - I can now see the dust on the skirting boards! Mr. S is very good but even Homer nods... and I'not supposed to lean forward and dust them, or at least that's my story!
I remember when I was a teenager, getting new glasses for short sight and suddenly realising that trees had individual leaves - this is like that!
... and I'm not supposed to lean forward and dust ...
When I had my second one done 20 years later*, I was signed off w*rk for a fortnight and told not to lean forward, lift anything heavy, etc. I had the surgery on 10th December, and because the university where I worked closed for a week after Christmas, and I'd already booked a few days extra off as we were going up to Orkney for New Year, I ended up getting nearly a month off, at a very sociable time of year, and without actually feeling the least bit unwell.
Win, win, win!
* When I had the first one done, implant lenses weren't expected to last more than about 20-25 years, so they weren't practical for someone so young. I only had the natural lens taken out of one eye, so I'd still have enough focusing in the other to find the contact lens and put it in. That worked fine until an optician suggested that I get an implant for the other eye, by which time the "shelf-life" of the implants had improved: when I asked about it, he said it would outlast me ...
More P&T - we went to church yesterday = we've only been going there since May - and were nearly knocked over by everyone wanting to know if the op had gone ahead, how it went, and so on. It was a lovely feeling, being part of such a caring family.
Okay, so maybe all they care about is getting me back to heaving pots of mashed potatoes about at Lunch Club, but if so they did a great job of hiding it!
Mrs. S, grateful
Edited to add - Piglet, that's an amazing story and makes one grateful all over again.
Ross, we were so blessed - it's the C of E church in our village, about 15 minutes' walk from home. We were full of 'oh, we'll try lots of different ones' but we were so warmly welcomed that we thought it would be downright perverse to go anywhere else!
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Which means it's working...
I want to give thanks for all the support I have received over Georgie-Porgy fat'n'fluffy. It felt like I had people from all around the world with me this afternoon when I was doing really difficult stuff. I have buried her in the back yard with some flowers the pet taxi driver E picked when she was walking dogs this morning. Spooky, the black cat from down the road kept me company.
I am sad, but not unhappy.
I handed in her expensive medication so another cat can benefit (Georgie had been the recipient of free meds, when other cats died, so I was happy to donate it) and tomorrow I will take her packets of food to The Cats' Protection League (we had more than usual as it was on 'Special' a couple of weeks ago.
I'm keeping her large water bowl in the back yard as cats from all over use it - kind of like an African watering hole.
And thanks for sharing Georgie-Porgy fat'n'fluffy's meds and food with other beloved kitties!
It was worth letting him live after all,
I opened it according to the manual (yes, I did RTFM!), extensively cleaned it according to best practice, and it works again and is much happier now temperature-wise. Cleaning the fan helps.
I'm posting this just little thing in the order of all things to give thanks coz although I'm sorta knowledgeable, I was more calm this time round than previously, and much better prepared to perform the surgery. More calmness helps you concentrate, and be matter-of-factually about it. Maybe I'm growing up a bit, after all?
I am glad for you having been through that process last year. Prices dropped and time taken lengthened.
Best wishes for your life in new place. While not exactly rural here, I am certainly out of suburban life and non-stop traffic noise.
This morning I can see to the trees beyond the garden, and snow is most dazzlingly white!
Thank, you, thank you, thank you!
I was born with cataracts and after my first surgery (at 17) I had a contact lens fitted. My dad came with me (we lived in Orkney and it had to be done in Aberdeen) and when the optician put the lens in my eye, I said "I can see!"* and I'll never forget the look on Dad's face.
When D's mum had hers done, apparently the first thing she said when she got home was "goodness, I must clean those curtains!".
* I hadn't been completely blind, but everything was suddenly so much more in focus: things like the texture of my cord jeans and the pattern on the lino floor.
I remember when I was a teenager, getting new glasses for short sight and suddenly realising that trees had individual leaves - this is like that!
Mrs. S blessing all those involved
Win, win, win!
* When I had the first one done, implant lenses weren't expected to last more than about 20-25 years, so they weren't practical for someone so young. I only had the natural lens taken out of one eye, so I'd still have enough focusing in the other to find the contact lens and put it in. That worked fine until an optician suggested that I get an implant for the other eye, by which time the "shelf-life" of the implants had improved: when I asked about it, he said it would outlast me ...
Okay, so maybe all they care about is getting me back to heaving pots of mashed potatoes about at Lunch Club, but if so they did a great job of hiding it!
Mrs. S, grateful
Edited to add - Piglet, that's an amazing story and makes one grateful all over again.