This morning I was supposed to take my sick cat back tot he vet for further checkups and medication.
Unfortunately she didn't make it through the night.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Monday, December 16, 2013
A Bit of Good News
Just a quick update on the kitty cat conundrum.
I went back to the veterinarian clinic around 3 p.m. I know she told me to come by in the evening but I could no longer just sit around hoping for the best at home. Luckily I got some good news when I got there. She isn't out of the woods yet but her temperature went up during the day. The vet was confident enough to let her go back home with me.
I spent most of my day cleaning. Partly because it really really needed to be done and partly because performing monotone tasks helps to keep me from going nuts. I really didn't want to pause too long at the thought of one of my cats struggling for her life.
I put her in a room upstairs so she can rest quietly without having to be disturbed by the other feline members of her family. I'll just let her sleep and check up on her maybe once an hour to make sure she's not taking a turn for the worse.
It's going to be a long night without much sleep I reckon.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
I went back to the veterinarian clinic around 3 p.m. I know she told me to come by in the evening but I could no longer just sit around hoping for the best at home. Luckily I got some good news when I got there. She isn't out of the woods yet but her temperature went up during the day. The vet was confident enough to let her go back home with me.
I spent most of my day cleaning. Partly because it really really needed to be done and partly because performing monotone tasks helps to keep me from going nuts. I really didn't want to pause too long at the thought of one of my cats struggling for her life.
I put her in a room upstairs so she can rest quietly without having to be disturbed by the other feline members of her family. I'll just let her sleep and check up on her maybe once an hour to make sure she's not taking a turn for the worse.
It's going to be a long night without much sleep I reckon.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
Not a Good Start of the Day...
I haven't yet told you this, but I share my household with a few cats. Five of them to be exact. Usually they're very affectionate and seem to be a happy family. People say that having pets around is good for your mental state and I must say that caring for my cats is something I enjoy. I love them, they give me love back. Mostly in the form of purrs, licks and friendly head-butts, sometimes in the form of 'presents' consisting of dead mice, birds, leaves and twigs.
Last night I brought home some Mackerel as treat for my kitties. I try to do this at least once a week to keep the gang happy. Normally when I come home with a bag of fish I'm swarmed by my cats and they're meowing in anticipation can probably heard throughout most of the neighborhood. They literally attack the fish and devour it as if it was their last meal on earth. All the while purring, growling and making some "NyomNyomNyom" sounds I still find funny no matter how many times I've heard them before.
Last night though one of my kitties apparently didn't feel like eating and just hung out with the rest of the gang while they feasted in front of her eyes.
This morning I woke up to very unpleasant surprise.
Usually, when I wake up in the morning, I'm greeted by a concert of meows and purrs. This morning however, they were all silent. Not a good sign.
When I entered the downstairs bathroom I found one of my kitties curled up behind the toilet, soaked in a pool of her own piss, barely reacting to anything. After petting her for a bit and picking her up it was clear to me that something was very wrong.
I wrapped her up in a towel and high-tailed it to the nearest vet. By the time I got there it seemed like she was dozing off constantly, trying hard to stay awake. The vet and her assistant went to work and informed me that my cat had Pneumonia. After spending probably all night on the floor of the bathroom she was also suffering from hypothermia. I spent over an hour in the veterinarian office trying to comfort my cat while the staff was running around with hot-water bottles, towels, antibiotic injections, liquid medicine, a cat sweater, iv line...
They're keeping her there for observation since, despite their best efforts, her temperature wasn't going up as it should. They asked me to return to the vet in the evening and then they'll decide whether to keep her there over night or if she's well enough to go home and spend the night with her family.
Let's hope she pulls through.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
Last night I brought home some Mackerel as treat for my kitties. I try to do this at least once a week to keep the gang happy. Normally when I come home with a bag of fish I'm swarmed by my cats and they're meowing in anticipation can probably heard throughout most of the neighborhood. They literally attack the fish and devour it as if it was their last meal on earth. All the while purring, growling and making some "NyomNyomNyom" sounds I still find funny no matter how many times I've heard them before.
Last night though one of my kitties apparently didn't feel like eating and just hung out with the rest of the gang while they feasted in front of her eyes.
This morning I woke up to very unpleasant surprise.
Usually, when I wake up in the morning, I'm greeted by a concert of meows and purrs. This morning however, they were all silent. Not a good sign.
When I entered the downstairs bathroom I found one of my kitties curled up behind the toilet, soaked in a pool of her own piss, barely reacting to anything. After petting her for a bit and picking her up it was clear to me that something was very wrong.
I wrapped her up in a towel and high-tailed it to the nearest vet. By the time I got there it seemed like she was dozing off constantly, trying hard to stay awake. The vet and her assistant went to work and informed me that my cat had Pneumonia. After spending probably all night on the floor of the bathroom she was also suffering from hypothermia. I spent over an hour in the veterinarian office trying to comfort my cat while the staff was running around with hot-water bottles, towels, antibiotic injections, liquid medicine, a cat sweater, iv line...
They're keeping her there for observation since, despite their best efforts, her temperature wasn't going up as it should. They asked me to return to the vet in the evening and then they'll decide whether to keep her there over night or if she's well enough to go home and spend the night with her family.
Let's hope she pulls through.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Wrestling with the Everyday Grizzlies
A big part of being depressed, at least for me, is losing interest in things and finding the motivation and courage to do anything at all. Even when it comes to doing things I enjoy or previously enjoyed. This also applies to things you know you absolutely need to do. But for some reason getting them done, no matter how simple they may be, can seem like an impossible task. At the worst of times, simple everyday tasks seem to take on the form a grizzly bear you need to wrestle with your bare hands.
I've had times while I was still in college and needed to deal with simple things such as filling out and returning forms to keep everything in order with my student loan and scholarship. I absolutely knew that if I didn't return these forms in time with the requested paperwork that my 'sponsor' would simply close the tap and I'd be out of cash, unable to pay for my tuition fees, rent, food, etc. The prospect of running out of money, being unable to continue studying and, basically, working yourself into a pickle that'll be a lot harder to get out of than getting in to would be enough motivation for a normal person to simply pick up a pen, fill out the form and get on with their lives. And how much time could it really take to go over paperwork like this, stuff it in the return envelope, walk to the post office and mail the damn thing? Half an hour? An hour maybe? Nothing at all.
At the time, I just couldn't get around to it. I couldn't get myself started. I'd take one look at the forms and my head started spinning. Visions of doom and gloom filled my mind. I'd see flashes of myself in a horrible scenarios. From being kicked out of my apartment to ending up in the streets and dying of starvation. Every possible consequence and the horrible, unstoppable downward spiral that would follow it leading to my inevitable demise.
Now, you might say, if you knew something bad would happen if you neglected to take action and the actual consequences would probably be far less severe than the ones you'd imagine, wouldn't that be motivation enough to grab a pen and fill the heck out of that form, slam-dunk it into the return envelope, jump into your running shoes and run to the post office with more determination than Forest Gump? You'd think so... but apparently that's not the way it works, at least not for me.
At that point in time I'd sink to the floor and instinctively try to stem the flow of negative thoughts flooding my brain, fearing I'd drown right in 'em there and then. The form would disappear into a dark corner of the room, I'd attempt to compose myself doing... whatever I thought would calm my mind and convince myself to try again soon. Which was no easy task in itself either, believe me. I'll probably get into that one at a later time.
In the end I got it done. I returned all forms after receiving several notices and warnings, but that was weeks after my first attempt.
It seems so silly when you put it all in order. It seems illogical that such a small thing can take so much effort to get done. But, when you're in the middle of a depression, you don't think logically. Everything you do seems futile, useless, irrelevant or impossible.
There does seem to be a difference in having to get things done for myself or for someone else. Even when I'm in a state like I was with those forms, if I have to do something for someone else, or my (lack of) action would have a negative effect on someone around me, it's much easier to get going. Strange but true. It seems like my mind prioritizes the needs of others over my own. Maybe it's being able to look at all the possible negative consequences from a distance. Maybe knowing that it's not me under the chopping block prevents my brain from going into complete brain-fried mode. Who knows.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
I've had times while I was still in college and needed to deal with simple things such as filling out and returning forms to keep everything in order with my student loan and scholarship. I absolutely knew that if I didn't return these forms in time with the requested paperwork that my 'sponsor' would simply close the tap and I'd be out of cash, unable to pay for my tuition fees, rent, food, etc. The prospect of running out of money, being unable to continue studying and, basically, working yourself into a pickle that'll be a lot harder to get out of than getting in to would be enough motivation for a normal person to simply pick up a pen, fill out the form and get on with their lives. And how much time could it really take to go over paperwork like this, stuff it in the return envelope, walk to the post office and mail the damn thing? Half an hour? An hour maybe? Nothing at all.
At the time, I just couldn't get around to it. I couldn't get myself started. I'd take one look at the forms and my head started spinning. Visions of doom and gloom filled my mind. I'd see flashes of myself in a horrible scenarios. From being kicked out of my apartment to ending up in the streets and dying of starvation. Every possible consequence and the horrible, unstoppable downward spiral that would follow it leading to my inevitable demise.
Now, you might say, if you knew something bad would happen if you neglected to take action and the actual consequences would probably be far less severe than the ones you'd imagine, wouldn't that be motivation enough to grab a pen and fill the heck out of that form, slam-dunk it into the return envelope, jump into your running shoes and run to the post office with more determination than Forest Gump? You'd think so... but apparently that's not the way it works, at least not for me.
At that point in time I'd sink to the floor and instinctively try to stem the flow of negative thoughts flooding my brain, fearing I'd drown right in 'em there and then. The form would disappear into a dark corner of the room, I'd attempt to compose myself doing... whatever I thought would calm my mind and convince myself to try again soon. Which was no easy task in itself either, believe me. I'll probably get into that one at a later time.
In the end I got it done. I returned all forms after receiving several notices and warnings, but that was weeks after my first attempt.
It seems so silly when you put it all in order. It seems illogical that such a small thing can take so much effort to get done. But, when you're in the middle of a depression, you don't think logically. Everything you do seems futile, useless, irrelevant or impossible.
There does seem to be a difference in having to get things done for myself or for someone else. Even when I'm in a state like I was with those forms, if I have to do something for someone else, or my (lack of) action would have a negative effect on someone around me, it's much easier to get going. Strange but true. It seems like my mind prioritizes the needs of others over my own. Maybe it's being able to look at all the possible negative consequences from a distance. Maybe knowing that it's not me under the chopping block prevents my brain from going into complete brain-fried mode. Who knows.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Enter the Brain Fried Nuggets!
As my first post I would like to give a little bit of background information and explain why I started this blog and what it is/should be all about.
I'm a guy in the bottom half of my thirties. Since my teenage years I've occasionally struggled and wrestled with my own brain in a nugget cage-match against depression. It came and went in episodes and for many years I didn't feel the need to seek professional help. Why would I? I had no real reason to be depressed.
I didn't have a traumatic child-hood, I was never abused or molested, I have parents who love me, an awesome sister, a place to sleep, food to eat, clothes to wear, a reasonable amount of luxury, an above average IQ, several academic degrees... You get the picture. And yet, periodically I would sink into a swamp of mental misery. It didn't make any sense to me and it still doesn't.
As these episodes occurred more and more often and it seemed increasingly difficult to pull myself out of the sludge and function as a normal human being should, I finally sought help a little over three weeks ago. After spending a good hour in a doctor's office, awkwardly discussing my private life with a middle-aged complete stranger in a white coat, I was now officially diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and told that I also showed several symptoms mainly attributed to Bi-polar Disorder and was suffering from Panic Attacks.
Though having known there was something wrong with me and not really surprised by the diagnosis, it still felt like a sort of defeat. I don't know how to describe it exactly. Being unpleasantly surprised by something you saw coming from miles away? It probably sounds weird but that's just the way I feel.
I was sent home that day with a modest bag of pills and told to come back three weeks later.
How do you do? I'm medicated, how are you?
Knowing that I'm taking pills every morning because my brain doesn't function as it should and makes me think and do weird things feels like another form of defeat. It's a little like having lost a struggle that has been going on for many years. I know I've made the right decision in reaching out for help and have made the first few baby-steps on my personal road to self-improvement and a fully functional life, but at this point it doesn't feel like it yet at all.
Anyway, I started this blog just to pen (or rather key) down my own personal thoughts, feelings, experiences, musings and brain farts as time passes. Hopefully someone out there will find it interesting and/or helpful to read my Brain Fried Nuggets.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
I'm a guy in the bottom half of my thirties. Since my teenage years I've occasionally struggled and wrestled with my own brain in a nugget cage-match against depression. It came and went in episodes and for many years I didn't feel the need to seek professional help. Why would I? I had no real reason to be depressed.
I didn't have a traumatic child-hood, I was never abused or molested, I have parents who love me, an awesome sister, a place to sleep, food to eat, clothes to wear, a reasonable amount of luxury, an above average IQ, several academic degrees... You get the picture. And yet, periodically I would sink into a swamp of mental misery. It didn't make any sense to me and it still doesn't.
As these episodes occurred more and more often and it seemed increasingly difficult to pull myself out of the sludge and function as a normal human being should, I finally sought help a little over three weeks ago. After spending a good hour in a doctor's office, awkwardly discussing my private life with a middle-aged complete stranger in a white coat, I was now officially diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and told that I also showed several symptoms mainly attributed to Bi-polar Disorder and was suffering from Panic Attacks.
Though having known there was something wrong with me and not really surprised by the diagnosis, it still felt like a sort of defeat. I don't know how to describe it exactly. Being unpleasantly surprised by something you saw coming from miles away? It probably sounds weird but that's just the way I feel.
I was sent home that day with a modest bag of pills and told to come back three weeks later.
How do you do? I'm medicated, how are you?
Knowing that I'm taking pills every morning because my brain doesn't function as it should and makes me think and do weird things feels like another form of defeat. It's a little like having lost a struggle that has been going on for many years. I know I've made the right decision in reaching out for help and have made the first few baby-steps on my personal road to self-improvement and a fully functional life, but at this point it doesn't feel like it yet at all.
Anyway, I started this blog just to pen (or rather key) down my own personal thoughts, feelings, experiences, musings and brain farts as time passes. Hopefully someone out there will find it interesting and/or helpful to read my Brain Fried Nuggets.
Thank you for reading and see you soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)