Pictures of Pandas Painting

You know those TV shows where the episodes are related, but not technically a two-parter?  This is one of those.

You will recall the fun that was to be had in my bathroom the day before Thanksgiving?  Well, we left this story line with a big hole in my ceiling.  The plumber had come and fixed the leak, but we hadn't received the bill yet.  Also, the contractor hadn't come yet to give us an estimate. 

Flash forward about a month later, the contractor came and estimated, the insurance had been contacted and they were going to cover everything but the deductible which, BTW, turns out we have a sliding deductible and since we've not submitted any claims in the 9 years we've lived here, our deductible was $250 instead of $500!

The contractor also included in his estimate what it would take if they painted my bathroom, too.  It was $500 more, and my niece, Natalie who just so happened to be coming to visit Mom and me for Christmas, "love[s] painting!"  Also she's got some decorating savant-ness going on, so I figured maybe I could bribe her into helping me paint.  Plus, she can help me pick the color bein's as I want to keep my shower curtain - with Monet's "Water Lilies" - only I'm not big on my bathroom being blue... or pink.

I never realized it, but there's a whole series of these Water Lilies paintings.  Just try Googling it in the store when you realize you forgot to take a photo of the thing you are trying to match!  Nat's performed her magic and we got paint, and all the assorted accoutrements.  We also got new LED light bulbs for the fixtures.

We returned to the condo with our purchases in tow and prepared to prep the bathroom.  Winifred was all ready to assist.  (She does love the ladder.)

First thing we notice was that we'd got the wrong light bulbs.  I was really sure that the lights in my bathroom took the bulbs with the bigger bottoms.  Well, when Natalie got up on the sink to switch them out, it didn't take her long to see the difference.  So she went back to Lowe's for the exchange while I stayed back and cleared out the rest of the room and cleaned off the baseboards.

We started about 2 p.m.   In these pics you can see the brownish beige the walls originally were and Natalie, high on paint fumes! 

At some point during the process, the feline foreperson felt that she could leave the whole thing in our paint-spattered hands, so she wandered off for a nap.

We took a short break for dinner about 5-ish, then the room was finished about 7 p.m.  By the next morning, it was dry and stuff could go back in place.

Problem Child

(Legal warning: there are pictures in this post that might gross you out.)

I'm not sure how a creature that only weighs 7 1/2 pounds could cause so much trouble, but Sophie has struck yet again.  

About a month ago, it was time for her annual trek to the vet for shots.  Plus she's a "geriatric" kitty at this point - although "we" do not speak of her actual age, let's put it this way, her litter mate, Gizmo, will be 14 years old this coming April.  

To recap, she's lived quite a bit of her fluffy life on the precipice of danger.  She was the runt of the litter and almost didn't survive being bottle fed after their mother abandoned her, Gizmo, and their three brothers after two days.  In 2010, she almost died of liver failure, had to be fed through a feeding tube, and drove me to the edge.  I figured that those two instances alone cost her at least two of her nine lives!

A few years later, 2015, she developed a hot spot on her tummy which resulted in her having what I like to call her "tummy tuck" - longtime readers will remember the pics of her in a Onesie!  

As we drove to the vet's office that Saturday morning, Sophie loudly singing the song of her people, I reassured her that she was fine and so the worst thing that would probably happen would be a shot or two.  I promised her that she wouldn't have to have her temperature taken.  (I silently crossed my fingers on that last one, but as it turns out, I was okay on that one.)

As always, the vet pried open her mouth to take a look at her choppers - which are gorgeous (my word, not his, but I'm sure that was the gist of his opinion.)  Now let me point out here that she was marvelous.  If my dentist had stood there with my mouth pried wide open while he calmly discussed it with someone else, I'd have bit him.  But no, she was a good little girl.  He pointed out that she had a sore on the roof of her mouth that wasn't normal.  He also pointed out how fast she was breathing - as though something were "up in there" making normal breathing difficult.  He said that the sore needed to be cauterized and maybe a biopsy done.

Well, you know that to me the word "biopsy" means I start looking for another cat.  I'm generally a positive person, and maybe that initial fear is normal, and it's how I deal with it that shows I'm positive.  But of course, I tried to assume the best.  We scheduled her surgery for the Monday after Thanksgiving (at that time, 10 days away).  During the interval, I did my best ostrich imitation, and tried to ignore the whole situation and just love my baby girl. 

Neither of us got much sleep the night before, since she couldn't eat or drink for X and Y hours, respectively, before the surgery, she and I went upstairs to sleep in the guest room.

Dropping her off was fun because I had to sit there through all the legal mumbo jumbo (and yes, I believe that's the technical name for it - I should know, as I work in the wonderful legal world!) and authorize them to do this or that, if necessary.   And yes, speaking as a legal professional, I freely admit that I did not read it - just skimmed for the highlights and where I had to sign and/or initial.

Post-op, I was called and told she was out and fine and I could come pick her up at 4:30.  So I went and got to see the Doctor - and he had pictures!!

So this picture is of her little mouth and weird thing in the middle is the tumor - they were able to take it out (and it would be sent off for biopsy).  Then they zapped the skin around the hole with a laser and it looked like this.

Keeping in mind that her entire head is about the size of a grapefruit, he telling me that now there is basically this tunnel between her mouth and her brain-box.  He said the edges might eventually sort of close in, but it wasn't likely to just heal up.  And his main concern is food getting stuffed up there, and then they'd have to put her out to go in and clean it out.  Yuck!  But he said that since she only eats dry food, that makes the chances of this happening much less.... and he'd like to see her again in two days.

He also told me that her white blood cell count was really high - turns out lil'puddin's tonsils (who knew cats had tonsils!?) were inflamed and out of their "crypt" - this reminds me I wanted to Google all of this - but he gave her a shot of antibiotics, so that should go away.  I'm guessing having uber inflamed tonsils may have played a major part in her not eating as well.

I got my sweetie home, and she hopped out of the carrier and wandered around the condo like she was drunk off her gourd.  Her front half seemed to be capable of going where her brain wanted it to, but her back half, if it worked, was NOT on the same wavelength.  If I were one to worry (hahahahaha!) I'd have been scared they'd nicked her spinal cord or something, but I chose to assume it was the remnants of the anesthesia and it would get better (and it did.)  The entire evening, she refused to lay down and rest, she wandered constantly from food bowl, to litter box, to water fountain, and back.  Later, my fiend, Jennifer, said this was probably her fight or flight instinct, and that made sense.  I was just too pooped from lack of sleep and worry that I couldn't stay up to watch her.

In the morning, she was fine, pretty much back to her usual queenly self.  I had obtained the okay to work from home so I could stay by her side, but she didn't need me, so I went to the office.  At that point, my main concern was having to park in the boonies, but the Lord blessed me with a parking spot very close to the door, so I was able to trek up to my office (four flights of stairs, remember?), and relax and work.

The doctor had told me that there was no need to get my hopes up about getting the biopsy results back any time soon - it normally takes 7-10 days.  So imagine my joy when, at our follow-up appointment two days later, they'd come in!!  Praise God!  They were normal - no cancer.  It was just some oddball (imagine that) allergic reaction that usually presents itself on the hind flanks - it's odd that it would appear in the mouth.  And it's not something that they can test for.  So my baby, like her mother, is just allergic to where she lives.

The final follow-up appointment, two weeks later, was this past Saturday.  Doctor opened her little mouth - she wasn't as much of an angel this time - and he said, "well, I'll be!"  And I was all, "WHAA??"  He turned her mouth so I could see - the hole was gone - there is a wee bit of scarring but other than that, there is no evidence in her mouth that this happened.

So to recap, the miracles that God performed in the past month just for this little 7 1/2 pound (well, 8 now, she'd gained a half pound at the 2nd FU appointment) ball of fluff and bones:

• Tumor wasn't cancer
• Test results back quickly so I wouldn't get an ulcer whilst dwelling morosely on the worst possibility for two weeks
• The hole healed up so no worries about food in her brain-box
• Parking spot (you might think I jest, but if so, you've never tried to find a parking spot at Berry.)

Now my little curmudgeon is all well and back to her normal self.  We both appreciate everyone's kind prayers, thoughts, and inquiries about her status - you just can't tell from her expression in this picture.

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head

Thanksgiving has come and is long gone and only now have I had a chance to sit and contemplate....

The Wednesday before T-day, I woke up, earlier than my normal 5:30, at about 4:20 am.  I could hear water being slurped at the cats water fountain and was considering throttling whoever it was that was so thirsty.  I turned over, grumbled into my pillow, and tried to go back to sleep.  But the slurping sound continued.

And continued...

And...  argh!  At this point, I'm willing to sell state secrets if only it will stop!  The Chinese water torture works on me, just FYI.  And now I have to go wee!  Sigh..

So I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.  I figured I'd refill the fountain (because generally that sound gets worse the lower the water level) while I was in there.  One step into the room (fine), second step into the room (squish).  Ugh, did someone hurl on my bathroom floor?  I mean, points for Gryffindor for hoarking on the linolium, but yuck...

So I turned on the light and looked down.  No hoark on the floor.  Just water.  My brain slowly percolates...  the water fountain doesn't hold THAT much water and it's 10 feet away!  How did this water get here?  DRIP!  The light bulb in my head comes on as my head receives a drop of water on it.

Yep, there's a leak in my bathroom ceiling.  In fact, it looks like a boob on my ceiling... a B-cup maybe.  Of course, my mind immediately leaps to the hot water heater in the utility closet upstairs so after first putting a bowl under the drip to catch future H2O, I trotted upstairs to confirm the worst.  But no.  The floor upstairs was a dry as a bone and the utility closet was warm and dry as well.  Hmmm...  With my limited construction experience (i.e., none), it occurs to me that there are probably pipes leading from the hot water heater to the bathrooms below, and I'm guessing one of them has sprung a leak.

All of this probably took 5 minutes, during which I managed to wake Mom up.  After explaining what was going on, and assuring her the bowl was in place, I took my blankie, pillow, and cat posse to my lazy-boy and tried to go back to sleep.

After a barely successful attempt at more sleep, I got up and started working out a plan of attack.  First, obviously, I'd be staying home that day... and depending on whether or not we could find a plumber who would come on the day before a long holiday weekend, our trip to Indy to have Thanksgiving with Haley's family was in flux.  Our former next door neighbor at the 'Do runs a plumbing business, so we called them and got the ol' "our schedule is full for the day, but we'll try to fit you in" routine.

Meanwhile, I'm envisioning that State Farm commercial where the person is asking his/her agent in a variety of situations whether they're covered, and one of them is a bathtub from the ceiling falling through to the floor below.  Not that there was that much water or a bathtub above it, but still... so I decided I would pop the B-cup and drain the water out, so as to lessen the possibility of something similar.  After poking the bubble, the water drained out and then it looked like a DD.

Of course, since I don't wait well, and I really wanted to see how far the wet went, I ripped the loose stuff off the ceiling to see how extensive the damage was.  The plumber was able to fit us in and the diagnosis was a pin-prick leak in one of the pipes.  So they cut a hole, replaced the leaky pipe and left.  We haven't received the bill yet, but we have our fingers crossed that we won't have to mortgage the 'Do.

Mostly because now we have a hole in my bathroom ceiling which will have to be fixed.  The funny thing is that just the day before, I had been thinking to myself that I'd like to paint my bathroom a pretty color instead of the beige that it and the rest of the condo is (with the exception of mine and mom's bedrooms).  I don't know if insurance would cover that, but a girl could hope, right?

 Of course, being a first-time homeowner, I don't know what insurance will cover or not.  And the final bill may come to $5 over our deductible!  I haven't had good luck with deductibles lately, but that's another story for later.

Can someone remind me why home-ownership is preferable to renting?

Luck of the Draw

'Tis that season again....  caroling, packages with bows, the annual fighting Winifred to get out of the tree.  You know, Christmas! 

And the same goes for life at Berry.  This past week has been touted as a week of holiday fun and surprises.  Monday, there was some local coffee shop set up in the "Hibachi" where we could buy special coffee.  Tuesday, there was lunch provided from Spudz 'n Stuff and giveaways.  Today (Wednesday) is popcorn for free munching in the Hibachi.  Thursday is free donuts (if you bring in a new toy for Toys for Tots in exchange).  And I'm hoping that the week will end with us receiving our semi-annual bonus.

I'm all for free food, but you have to put it into context.  First, all the fun stuff will be in what I lovingly call "the big house," i.e., the main new building on First Avenue and Franklin Street.  Now, Berry is BIG and I work, as discussed before, in the old cigar factory building behind Willard Library.  There is no really convenient way to get from one building to the other - there is a very circuitous route up/down stairs, through the factory OR there's the outside route..  The building I'm in has no elevator, only four LONG flights of stairs which I have to go up/down every time I need to go out.  So in order for me to leave my bat cave on the third floor, the reason has to be "stair-worthy."

Reminding me of a Seinfeld episode (Season 7, Ep. 9) where Elaine's preferred form of birth control, the sponge, is discontinued so she stocks up, buying all that are left, and consequently has to decided from then on out whether or not the guy she's dating is "sponge-worthy." 

Each day, if I'm not required to be there (e.g., our monthly legal team meeting), whether or not I leave my cave to do something/go somewhere totally depends on whether or not it is stair-worthy. So the few of you for whom I am willing to leave my perch to go to lunch with, feel honored.  Yesterday, being the first Tuesday of the month, was our monthly meeting, so I'd already had to be in the big house once that day, making my desire to go back over, even for free food, plummet.

But I decided to go, mostly because one of the giveaways was a "winter parking spot."  The parking at Berry is, shall we say, less than ideal.  I get to work each morning at about 6:30 am because I want a decent parking spot and not to have to walk multiple city blocks to get to/from my building.  On good days, I get a spot in the parking lot in front of the Big House.  On bad days, I could be parking re-e-a-l-l-l-y far away.

I was lucky enough to win a parking spot a couple of years ago and let's just say that April of 2017 was a very good month!

When the time came, I and a co-worker (Jennifer) made the trek over, taking the outside way.  It was in the low 40's outside (or high 30's), and it was more preferable to us to go out in the cold and take the elevator at the Big House than to take the rather circuitous route through the buildings and have to take all the stairs. 

Once we arrived, we got and fully decked out our baked potatoes - ugh, it was so good!  (And I ate far too much of mine - I didn't even take a cookie, if that tells you...)  And when the line got relatively short, I went over to put my name in the hat for the parking spot.  They were also giving away a day off, a TV set, and something having to do with the Purple Aces (U of E's basketball team.)  My preferences, in order (1 being the most desirous to Rose and 4 being "ugh" and not in a good way):
1. Parking spot
2. Day off
3. TV - although I don't really need one, the one in the living room is 10 yrs old and could possibly die any minute
4. Purple Aces thing - I attended U of E for three years and never, not once, attended a basketball game.  Therefore, if I won something, THIS would be what I won.

After lunch, I made the long trek back home to my cubbie and never gave the drawing another thought.  After all, the odds were probably not "ever in [my] favor."

About 3:30 pm, we got an email announcing the winners.  First thing - parking spot - dagnabit either they spelled my name really wrong or I didn't win.  On to the days off... bummer, no.  I almost closed the email at that point because, well I think you know why, but I stayed the course and looked further - Purple Aces thing - nope.  Whew!  Dodged a bullet there!  Then just for shits and giggles, the TV - "Rosemary Barger"  - Wha?? 

Yes, I won a 40-inch TV set.  For a heart beat, and only a heartbeat, I considered contacting the guy whose name looks nothing like mine who won the parking spot to see if he'd like to trade, but then I remembered that the TV at home is 10 yrs old and decided it wouldn't hurt to have a new one waiting in the wings.

So I'm looking forward to the upcoming Doctor Who marathon for Christmas - it'll look great on the new TV!