I'm supposed to do my last "long run" before the Milwaukee Marathon tomorrow - a 20 mile jaunt through our lovely city.
So, I was planning an early (& large) dinner, followed by a quiet evening and an EARLY bedtime. Say, 9 pm.
At 6 pm, Skimbleshanks the kitten swelled up like a balloon and started having seizures. He'd had his first set of vaccinations this afternoon, and the emergency-24-hour vet we called said it sounded like a reaction.
So, I threw the kittens into the cat carrier (they asked us to bring both, just in case) and raced to the other end of town to the emergency vet clinic. I learned many things on my drive over. First, it is not smart to put a puffed-up-seizure-prone kitten in the same cat carrier with his healthy brother. And second, puffed-up-seizure-prone kittens poop. In the cat carrier. And it stinks. It stinks up the whole car.
When we got there, they gave poor Skimble a million shots. Steroids, Antihistamines, etc. And we waited for him to un-puff. After an hour, they told me to go get dinner and come back in 45 minutes because he was still all swollen and they couldn't release him.
I couldn't eat. The one thing I can't do when I'm stressed/worried/anxious is eat. I'm not sure why. (Someday I will make millions on my diet book, "Just Worry, Be Skinny")
But I could shop - and I, shopper extraordinaire, managed to find the one mega-pet-warehouse store on that side of town that was open until 9 pm! Got them a new blanket (to replace the pooped-on one) and some not-really-needed cat toys. To make myself feel better. Normally we shop at those little, over-priced independent shops. But dire circumstances such as these call for mega-store shopping. (Besides, the independents all closed at 7)
By the time I returned to the clinic, all was well and Skimble was set to go.
So here, I sit at 10 pm, scarfing down a quick dinner of something frozen from Trader Joes and licorice. Lots of licorice. (Licorice has carbs, right?)