“In prosperity our friends know us; in adversity we know our friends.” ―John Churton Collins
Month: September 2014
Start…
“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” – Arthur Ashe
Caring For Pets With Chronic Pain/Fibromyalgia
Caring For Pets With Chronic Pain/Fibromyalgia
Across the scale of Chronic Pain/Fibro sufferers, I have noticed a very high percentage of us are pet owners. I, myself, adopted a kitten last Fall. The tiny, under three pounds, kitten I brought home (see photo in the About section) that fell asleep in my lap after a few hours of being home that first night is now a rambunctious, troublesome, cheeky, full sized cat, but she’s still got a lot of kitten in her in terms of youth and spirit.
When I want to sleep, she wants to play. When she’s asleep, I’m usually working. This does not bother her, she curls up into a ball and sleeps deeply, or she sprawls out like royalty and takes over half the bed. Of course, there are also times where she’s off being a cat. She has a lot of odd little hiding places.
Initially, I ran myself ragged caring for her. She was so tiny, I didn’t want her to get trapped someplace or be afraid, especially since she’s one of those rare breeds that doesn’t really meow. After a short confinement period, she took over the entire house. The shelter told me she was my property, but I don’t think she quite sees it that way. I am pretty sure she’s got Kitty LoJack on my ass.
As we’ve slowly gotten to know one another, the daily care is minimal. I feed her, I change her water multiple times a day, I brush her (for a short-haired cat, her belly is similar to that of a medium-to-long haired cat. I can brush it daily and a ton of hair will come off. She finds this rude. Why am I stealing her hair?!), I clean her ears and clip her nails, I talk to her, and throw toys for her, because “playing fetch” is one of her favorite things to do. She runs around with a toy in her mouth, brings it to you eagerly, plops down, and then waits to see what you will do with it. And then, she’s off and running on her next fetch adventure. This can go on for hours.
She came from a very cat filled household, but since all of her siblings had already been adopted out, I decided she could be the solo kitty for a while. However, for the past few months I have been communicating with a foster parent and I am about to embark on kittens again, this time slightly older than she was when I got her. The shelter told me they feel she is the right age to accept them, but that I can return them within 21 days if things don’t work out. I’d feel terrible if she rejected them or hurt them, but they’re bonded siblings, they’ll have each other to play with if she’s being a shit for a while. I expect she will be. I expect she’ll wonder who these encroachers are in HER home, especially if Mommy is sweet to them.
In all fairness, I have been telling her about them for months. I have used soft, dulcet tones to tell her how excited she’ll be to have a little brother and sister to play with. How they’ll get to do all the fun stuff together that Mommy can’t do because she’s in too much pain. I use their potential names when I tell her about her siblings, and I try to make sure she understands that some sharing will be involved.
And then, anxiety set in. I can barely get out of bed and see to her needs each day, what am I THINKING bringing in two additional little creatures? The shelter and my vet’s office said I was “A shining example of what all adopters should be.” Color my ass surprised, and flattered. However, is this realistic? I am deeply concerned.
Strictly speaking, I fly solo in almost all things, but especially when it pertains to pet care. I may not do all of the playing, but everything else, it’s 100% Mommy. I’ve never truly had just one cat before, except as a child and much later on in life, when my cat’s sister passed away, leaving her the solo cat. That was different. This time I see my little espresso bean wanting to play, looking bored and unhappy at times, and all I can think is “She needs a friend.”
Initially I only wanted one, but I ended up falling in love with the 2nd of a bonded pair of siblings. They’re utterly adorable and closing in on six months in foster care. I am deeply concerned about my little girl A) Rejecting them, B) Acting out because she thinks she’s being replaced, and C) Hurting one, or both, of them. I’m also concerned with my health getting worse and what it will be like for me to have to handle two litter boxes per week instead of one (at least for now), feeding the little ones at meal times because they’re on a schedule and espresso bean is not, playing with all of them when I’m already exhausted from just the one, and then sleep time. The little bean sleeps when she feels like it, especially since Mommy doesn’t feel well, writes when she can, and sleeps when she’s ready to pass out. She will sleep with me when she feels like it, and other times I look over and she’s standing on my night-stand staring at me, making little chirping sounds. The little ones go to sleep each night, sleeping next to their foster mother. What will the bean do when she finds two new cats in my bed?!? Will she kick them out, act out, be violent?! This is completely and utterly freaking me out.
So, I ask my fellow pain sufferers: How do you handle multiple animals in your home? Do you have help, do your pets act out towards one another, am I just over-thinking this? I expect an adjustment period, obviously, but should I be questioning whether or not to just take one, or should I take them both and let the chips fall where they may?
A small part of me is also concerned about the adoption fees. I got the bean for a steal because she’s an all black cat and no one wanted to adopt her. Her adoption fee was so cheap, I felt like I stole her, except I didn’t, I got an awesome little friend. If I wait a few more weeks, the fees will be considerably less than if I do it now, and the truth is, I have to wait a few weeks regardless because I am already dealing with some heavy shit and that must be handled first. Only then can I handle stocking up on cat litter and their current kitten food, and setting them up for their new life with me.
Am I being ridiculous, unreasonable, unfair, or thinking this through intelligently? Please leave your comments and let me know what you think. Generally I am not an advice seeker, but I’ve been freaking out over this for weeks now and I need to make a decision soon. Is three too many, or is two more realistic?
You Never Know How Many Books You Own Until…
You Never Know How Many Books You Own Until…
Go ahead, ask me what I do at 3:00 a.m. when I can’t sleep? Apparently today, organize my bookcases was high up on the list. I have no idea why because they’re all behind my couch and I don’t look at them much, but after uncovering a storage container FULL of books I have not laid eyes on since 2008 a few weeks ago, I’ve been on a bit of a mission.
If you’re like me, it’s not enough that they be neat and organized on a shelf. No, you go so far as to alphabetize them by author, and separate them by genre. I started with the Kabbalah books and all things Judaic, and worked my way to Dark Urban Fantasy. Don’t ask me to explain that since it’s an odd order, but I can say it wasn’t long before I was six feet in the air cleaning off shelves so as to store my first edition hard covers that I love so dearly. I am currently stuck on the letter H. Mind you, I have to get from H all the way to T in order to be “done”. Then, I move on to DVD’s to accompany some of the books. I suppose it’s a good thing that not everyone has a TV show or movie right now, or I’m pretty sure I’d be doing this until the year 2020. All embarrassing books I will never admit to having read and have absolutely no knowledge of have been donated to my local library. Trust me, they made out like bandits.
If I wrote as much as I read, I’d be able to…well, never mind what I’d be able to do.
Later today I will be sore and achy from all that time spent making sure I got the books in the right order. I am still missing a lot for H and I am determined to find the missing books so that I can finish my project. I will go through the books in my bedroom next and add them to “the pile” to go downstairs. I’m sure there are plenty hidden up here, stashed away like I’ll never be allowed to have another book again.
Truth be told, someone SHOULD keep the books away from me so I can return to my own fictional world and write, like I’m supposed to. 4000 words was a nice victory yesterday, but chapter 100 isn’t going to finish writing itself, so a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. Hit the keys, and make magic happen.
Off to work I go…
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Word Count
It’s not even 7:30 a.m. EDT and I’ve already scored 4,000 words and most of a new chapter. Is it terrible that I now want a nap after over 12 hours of work, stress, a migraine, and writing?
A Kind Gesture…
“A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.” ―Steve Maraboli
Addressing An Issue
I wrote something yesterday that upset someone. It might have upset more than one person, no one else said anything, but in all fairness, I did write and post it late. In reality, I know who cares about me and who doesn’t. As we’ve established, I am not an attention seeker. If I was, the drama here would be high. I really don’t have the time or the patience to be like that.
I am well aware that I am very internal, and that that can come off as me being “cryptic”. I don’t read much into that, because I say exactly what I think and what I feel. I have lost the ability of being concerned whether or not it affects someone else because my feelings are entirely my own. Most importantly, I’ve only ever seen the selfish side of the coin.
In the past, I have written about depression and suicide from a very honest stand-point, and people responded to it with e-mails that started off like this: “How could you possibly think of leaving me? What would I do without you?” It only ended up angering me. There was no “I’m here for you, what can I do?” or “I am here to listen, no matter what.”, just “How could you think of leaving me?” Those words are selfish. Being honest about your emotions is not.
It bothers people how direct I am, that there’s very little I won’t say. I find that it is important to get it out of my system, to be honest with how I feel, to be honest with myself, and if my honesty helps someone, good. I don’t sugar-coat or gloss things over. If I say I’m “fine”, I’m probably not, but you have to know me really well to hear it in my voice and know. 95% of people will hear me say I’m fine and keep talking, they are so wrapped up in themselves that my well-being is of no concern to them whatsoever. I often say I could be bleeding out of my eyeballs and no one would notice. The other day someone actually told me “I’d put a towel under you and leave you there.”, and they LAUGHED. The cruelty of such a statement isn’t fucking amusing, not by a long shot.
The last thing I ever want someone to say is “I’m sorry you feel that way.” It’s not a kind thing to say, it always comes off so dismissive, and that makes me want to rip your face off. Yeah, I’m graphically visual when I’m angry, but there’s no law against it…yet.
It comes down to this: If you accept me, please accept me as I am. If you don’t, exit stage left. Being a part of my life, however large or small, comes with its benefits and rewards, but I’m not going to fake happiness for anyone or fake my emotions. That is far more exhausting to me than the truth.
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED



