Cat Pharmacist Extraordinaire.
May 16th, 2008 by trancejen
You mean it’s May? And I have a web page?
Where am I again, exactly?
I hate logging onto the computer after a prolonged absence because the guilt trip I get from the box itself is just overwhelming. There are eight hundred pieces of Spam that I have not dealt with! My computer has been heaving underneath the very weight of it! My web page is fucking cluttered with casino crap! I have not been a good computer mama. Not at all. I suck.
So what have I been up to, with my sucky self? I had a forty-eight hour EEG this week. That was fun. You really haven’t enjoyed a good night’s sleep until you’ve rolled around with thirty-eight wires sticking out of your head. It was also a plus that the cats considered these to be Happy Fun Strings and kept leaping at my head like they were going for jump shots and I was the big-headed, fucked-up basket.
I can’t even begin to describe the pleasure.
I’ve also been on the phone. I have been on the phone all fucking day, every fucking day, with Medicare and Medicaid. I won’t get into the mind-numbing nitty gritty of it all, but there are Problems with my health coverage that have resulted in my having no medication, in my actually having to trick-or treat at doctors’ offices for samples like a raving fucking dope fiend; and consequently I have been listening to a lot of fucking hold music and talking to a lot of people named Shaquonda and Tiffany and Bob who could not possibly give less of a shit that I am really starting to go white girl crazy and lose my mind all over the floor.
So that is what I have been doing. And when I am kickboxing, I am picturing your face, Shaquonda. Right hand jab, rear hand hitting, right hook, ROUNDHOUSE UP YOUR SNARKY LITTLE ASS.
I actually have a caseworker who is supposed to be doing this stuff. My caseworker has approximately four thousand other clients. She works twenty-three and a half hours per day, never answers the phone, and probably cries a lot. She actually called me back once. I fell off of my fucking chair and cowered under the table, sure that schizophrenia had finally set in at long last. All I could do was babble incoherently throughout the entire twenty seconds we talked, thereby wasting the entire conversation and totally further screwing myself.
I can’t fully begin to express how much I hate dealing with Medicare and Medicaid. There are times I throw the fucking phone down and contemplate eating cigarettes by the pack.
I guess it should comfort me to know that everyone I deal with who does it for a living seems to hate it a lot more.
In other news, I nearly killed the kitten.
I spilled a bottle of Lyrica, which is a non-narcotic pain medication, all over the floor last week. My mom was in the kitchen with me and we frantically scrambled to grab the big red capsules before any of our cats did, because the damn cats act as if they are not fed and also as if anything dropped by a People is manna from heaven. People food! I’ve seen them eat all kinds of ridiculous shit. Salad. Coffee grounds. Crushed red pepper, that was fun. I dropped a contact lens once and had to dive for it for fear that the little buggers would be crapping my Acuvue.
Anyway, I thought that we got all of the pills. We were quick and careful.
I thought.
The next day I came upon a completely lethargic kitten splayed across the kitchen floor, eyes rolling around strangely.
“Skittles!” I said. “Kitty!!”
She looked at me weakly, lifted her head slightly and meowed the meow of a seriously fucked-up feline.
Oh God. She was stoned.
Now this is a large cat I’m talking about. She’s only six months old but she’s huge and fat. I thought that surely she could metabolize the drug like a People. Why not?
Then I thought, who the hell am I kidding? It was a two-hundred milligram pill! The cat was a goner. I was going to have to tell the J-Man I killed his cat. Mommy is a murderer, J. Mommy dosed your baby. This kitten is no more. She is an ex-kitten.
This was clearly no time for stupid jokes.
I called the vet while simultaneously lighting a cigarette in order to quell my nerves. My Keith Richards cat stared, lolling on the floor like a drunken sorority girl.
“Hello?”
“HELLO I THINK I POISONED MY CAT OH MY GOD WHAT DO I DO???”
The vet calmly explained to me that I was fucked, as it was too late to pump her stomach. (Too late! MY GOD) He told me to watch her and encourage her to eat and drink in order to get the medication to pass through her system more quickly.
“KITTY!! FOOD!”
“Meowwwwww.”
I ended up hand-feeding her every cat-delicacy I could think of. Tuna. Cheese. Chicken. She ate, but the next day she was still despondent, lazy, and drooling.
This was a cat who spent her days harrassing my other cats into panic attacks. I was sure she was dying.
I kept stuffing food into her slack mouth, and over the next couple of days she started to perk up, developed a kidney infection, and began peeing all over the house. We took her to the vet for a shot of antibiotics and now she seems to be fine.
Talk about your sighs of relief.
Bullshit, cat lover that he is, told me, “Next time only give her half a pill.”
I’ll have to remember that.
Happy Friday.
goatbarnwitch wrote on 05/16/08 at 1:56 pm :
Hey, glad to see an update and know you are OK… or as OK as all the bullshit the world can hand out allows…. I sure wish all the crap would just float off and leave you alone cuz you soooo deserve it. I hope the kitty doesn’t start stealing you sample meds… that just wouldn’t be right.
Trish wrote on 05/17/08 at 4:56 am :
I always *hated* it when my dog ripped me off for any drugs. Damn stoner pets. I lost more good marijuana that way. There oughta be a law.
misha wrote on 05/17/08 at 2:09 pm :
cats are so awesome - glad u r back. ooohhh…if they ate my pot i might have to do something. my dog once ate 5 pot brownies. it was a scary yet very funny 3 days of her drooling and me carrying her up and down the stairs - 50 lb husky/wolf. I had a crush on my vet and didnt want to call him but it turned out that all my friends dogs had eaten much more than that and after a few days of drooling they were fine. so was mine and she still loved chocolate - i would have thought she would of learned. not that i ever fed her chocolate, but she could open things. Too damn smart for her own good.
dichroic wrote on 05/18/08 at 8:43 pm :
I’m just glad you’re more or less OK; I get scared when you vanish because so mnay times it’s meant hospitalization and other Serious Bad Things. (Not that being medless is a Good Thing, either.)
Jeanette wrote on 05/22/08 at 11:05 am :
One of my cats ate a Effexor once and he was paranoid for about 72 hours, dilated eyes and running around. I was pretty scared but the vet said their livers process stuff about 1/4 as fast as a humans do so it took him a while but he was ok. I’m glad your kittie is ok.
Kungfukitten wrote on 06/9/08 at 12:01 am :
I’m so glad your kitty’s all right. Luckily my cats treat pills like hockey pucks and will smack them under the stove or fridge where I find them six months later when we’re playing “It’s Christmas in July Mama got the stick and she’s digging crap out from under the appliances and couch.” They get the toys and I get the pills. It’s win win.
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