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November 14, 2004 Went to the Metallica concert with Dr. C last night. It was a lot of fun. We had tickets to one of the club suites. Heh, I am spoiled now. Leather seats...ahh. There were only six other people in the suite, so it pretty much felt like we were alone. The only time anyone bothered us was the really drunk guy who really wanted to get me a beer, and just didn't want to no for an answer. Godsmack was awesome, I'd like to go to see a concert of just them. Metallica did a nice mixture of old and new stuff, I was pretty satisfied. I called mom on the way home, and she told me that Rowdy had run away. Of course, because mom just opens the door and lets him go. When I got home and saw that he still wasn't here, I was a nervous wreck. Dr. C was so sweet, and offered to stay with me and look for him if I wanted her to. It was one thirty and I just couldn't ask her to do that. She ended up whistling with me for fifteen minutes anyway. While she was driving away, I decided to go upstairs and whistle out the front door, when there, laying on the porch, looking as innocent as can be was Rowdy. Dr. C had seen him too and had stopped her truck. As soon as I said his name, he put his tail between his legs, hung his head, and slinked (slunk?)into the house. I hate when my dogs to something bad, and know it's bad, but do it anyway. I guess welcome to motherhood. The rest of me week totally sucked, however. Wednesday morning, I wake up to find Mambo isn't patiently waiting at his food dish like he normally is. I go and hunt around for him, and find him laying flat out on his side. When I pick up him, he is pretty much limp. He had been perfectly fine the night before, it just came on so quick. I took him into work with me and had Dr. C look at him. She was just about as lost as I was. We took some blood, and cultured some of the abcesses that I have been fighting, thinking that Mambo might have some weird fungal infection. We also took a couple of X-rays to see if there were any signs of cancer in his lungs. Needless to say, I was really stressed. His bloodwork came back pretty normal asside from some liver enzyme elevations. We had started him on a heavy duty antibiotic, so we decided to continue that and see if that made him any better. I was up with him all Wednesday night, I just didn't think he would make it through the night. Every time I fell asleep I dreamed he died. It was horrible. Luckily, Thursday saw a slight improvement, he was actually lifting his head, and ate a few bites of wet cat food. He has continued to steadily improve, thank goodness. He still walks like he is completely drunk, but at least he is walking, eating, and drinking. I swear, this cat just wants to see how much he can put me through. I guess I am twice as nervous since the kitten he was found with died last week at the clinic from a serious respiratory infection. I don't want to lose Mambo. Since I was already sleep deprived and just wanted to go to bed something else had to happen. My mom called me at work on Thursday and asked if I could come home and take her to the doctor, because she was really sick. I rushed home and mom told me that her doctor had told her to just go to the emergency room. She had a migrane with dizziness so bad that she passed out. So, we went to the emergency room and ended up getting stuck in a room with a very drunk guy that had gotten in a car accident and was complaining of back pain. He wouldn't stop screaming and yeliing. He would yell at his poor kid, then throw something. My poor mom is just sitting beside me cringing. I was afraid to say anything to him because he seemed like the type of guy who would pull out a knife and kill you right then and there. He got twice as loud when the doctor told him that he wouldn't be prescribing any narcotics. Apparently the guy had a note in his chart that he was addicted. Needless to say we were quite happy when he left. Mom got some IV fluids and pain meds, and we finally went home around ten oclock. I was so hungry and so sleepy at the same time, I just wasn't sure what to do with myself. I gobbled down food and was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I was pretty out of it on Friday, simply because I had gotten so little sleep. Dr. Fuller was trying really hard to be nice to me..it was kind of weird. I had to laugh at him though, because he told me to have fun at the Metallica concert, then added 'Rock On!' Heh..those word just shouldn't come out of Dr. Fuller's mouth. Now I have to work on the stupid essay for english. Last essay of the semester..yay! <-//->
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