Remembering a 'fun' moment through the haze of drugs yesterday when I asked the nurse for something to brace my knees with because I could feel my hips starting to dislocate when they turned me onto my side.
The nurse, god love her, got down to my eye level on the gurney and very sweetly told me that when joints click, they're not actually dislocating, and it's just ligaments sliding over each other causing gas pockets to crackle and pop. This is true for most people and is actually what makes that satisfying crunch sound when you go see the chiropractor. So I knew right away she was thinking, "A chiropractor has told her this; this will be an Educational Moment."
Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out how to tell her I know this, and that's not what is happening as a teeth guard was being slipped between my teeth when my GI doctor went, "Did you not read the note I put in her file? She has EDS. When she says it's her joints, it's her joints. Listen to the patient!"
He then showed her how to hold my shoulders in place while he was doing the upper endoscopy exam so my shoulder wouldn't randomly slip out and make my chest muscles seize. As I was laying on my side and he was double checking my position he leaned in and let me know with a wink that he'd asked a physical therapist what to do and hopefully I wouldn't be in too much pain with my joints tomorrow. (I am not.)
He also brought an extra nurse in from the allergy department (Sam) to monitor for signs of anaphylaxis because, apparently, it looks different when the patient is sedated. The fact that I "woke up" from my sedation (I don't think I actually fell asleep) and gave him a thumbs up when he announced "excellent prep" to the room at large made some of the nurses flutter because they'd given me enough fentanyl to knock out a horse, but I have a vague memory of the allergy nurse and the GI doctor sharing a look over the top of my head before starting to talk to me in calm measured tones to let me know it was okay that I was awake, but I needed to stop moving. Was I in any pain? Could I squeeze Sam's hand once for no and twice for yes? Okay, good, we're almost done...
"Back when you first came into my life,
I recalled a place that I knew as a child
A special place
One that I held close to my heart
Won’t you lead me in a dance down this winding road where light and shadow entwine to take hold of the thoughts of the one left far behind?
Know that, sometimes, I want to turn around and see the things that I’ve passed on the journey, but know with love on my side, with courage and pride, I’ll fight
I will carry on"
From the first night I had him when he curled up against my neck to fall asleep with me, to his final night when he curled up on my chest to try and comfort me, there is not a single day I've been home that I haven't had my kitten chow with me. He was my tiny shadow, always trotting along after me or singing at me from around the house with that long Siamese wail or bringing me scores of socks he hid god knows where (although once he brought me an entire umbrella instead, which he was understandably proud of). He was by my pillow every night cuddled up against my arm, and we fit together like two puzzle pieces, like that little crook in my arm was designed for him, for his exact shape and size. He was with me through my health issues, through high school and college, through moving states, through covid, through tears, through the loss of other pets. He was there as I really learned to write, and there is not a single chapter of TRT that was written without his presence for at least a section of it even if it meant I had to stop editing or writing for a bit and just stare at the words instead because he wanted to be held NOW. And he even managed to hold off the cancer just long enough to walk with me through mom's hospital stay and her return home. I was his person, and he was my soul cat, a piece of me.
I was so torn last night. He was clearly in pain, dehydrated, wobbly, confused and restless, and couldn't get to the litter box. It had been really clear this week the moment was coming, that the cancer was going to take him soon. I'd had this big plan, to have it all happen at home in peace. He hated the vet, hated the stress, but it happened so fast, and I just... knew he couldn't wait for the vet's office to open so she could come here. He'd chosen his time and it was now.
I held him at the emergency vet when they gave him the sedative. I managed to choke out that silly singing tone that always made him happy, as I called him every last nickname he knew: my Cato-wato kitten chow, my Cato kins, my little Mr. meow meow, my sweet happy baby kitty. I made sure all he could see with those big beautiful blue eyes of his was me, as I petted his soft little ears and scratched his neck just the way he liked. And he actually managed to purr for me. He purred as he slipped away and the lights went out, and it was the last sound I ever got to hear from him.
I already miss you so, so much, my sweet old kitty, my Cato kitten chow. I'm sorry it couldn't be at home. But thank you for purring for me. Thank you for spending your journey with me. Thank you for the love you gave me. Thank you for the big meows and the headbonks and perching on my shoulder to interrupt with a breaking news story of Meow Meow. Thank you for the stealing of hundreds of my socks over 16 years and the way you always wanted to sit on me regardless of convenience or your own comfort. Thank you for letting me scoop you up for head smoochies, guarding me from nightmares, and solemnly supervising over 150 chapters of TRT. My soul cat, my baby kitty, my lovebug. I will always love and miss you. And one day I'll see you again.
While you shouldn't go out of your way to fuck over fellow workers, the advice going around that says, "be indispensable to your bosses!" are also setting yourself up for failure. What people don't tell you about "being indispensable" to your boss is that, for one, you aren't indispensable to them, but also, you will only become the Go-To Guy, somebody who suddenly finds themself doing two, three peoples' jobs for the pay of one.
Ask me how I figured out the hard way. If you can, jealously guard your labour, time, and energy, because lord knows your boss won't do that for you