Last week I found out my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Shortly after that, I discovered that Samantha may be sick. That night I broke a tooth, and last week was really hard for me on many levels. It’s hard having a sick kitty, and even harder having a sick family member who is thousands of miles away and who you know you cannot help. It’s depressing. I was really looking forward (along with Master) to having a really nice long weekend. It started off nice enough:Friday night Master and me spent a lot of time playing and having sex, so that was wonderful. The next morning, we woke up expecting a nice hot day, and I went out onto the porch with Master, Apple Pig, and my coloring book and colored pencils. We started relaxing and doing our thing, when I suddenly felt really ill, and had to go lay down. Master made me a “sick kitty bed” and I stayed there most of the weekend. Fun weekend? It was not. I’m much better now though, and not sick at all.
The weekend passed, and Tuesday Master called in to work so that he could take me to get my tooth looked at. I was figuring that it was probably going to be a consult and I’d have to make an appointment to get the actual work done. He looked at my tooth, and told me that the tofu pup I ate (for real?! A piece of TOFU caused this much damage?!) really hurt my tooth and that I’d need a crown. Not only that, but there was a chance I’d need a root canal too. The cap was hopefully to avoid a root canal, and the root canal was a “two in ten chance.” We both decided it was best to op for the crown and see if that prevented a much more costly (and painful!) root canal.
My dentist was going out of town in a couple of days and he wanted to fit me in as quickly as possible. We went up to the front desk to set up a payment plan (dental crowns are expensive, you know) and while we were there the dental assistant told us that she could actually see me right now if I wanted and I’d be done in about two hours. I did NOT want. I didn’t feel mentally prepared, I thought this was going to be a CONSULT. Nope. Master’s eyes lit up and he told the nice lady behind the counter that I would love that. (Love is a strong word!)
The woman went away to set up the room for the appointment, and Master and me were left alone for a minute. I crumbled. I BEGGED him to go home (a five minute drive, fifteen minute walk!) and get Cube Pig for me.
“Do you really need your pig Kitty?”
“YES! Omg. PLEASE. Please? PLEASEPLEASEpleasepleaseplease?! I’ll be the BEST kitty EVER!”
Master agreed to get my piggy since he had to run home and feed Samantha anyway. He came back about fourty minutes later, and gave the receptionist Cube Pig to give to me. The entire office thought he was adorable (the pig, not Master, though I think Master is adorable!), and no one made a big deal of the twenty-six year old who needed her pig to get through this. Hell, when I had my wisdom teeth out, the dentist at the time lent me Molar Bear because Master got stuck in a storm with Biggle Piggle!
I won’t go into any gory details about the actual procedure, don’t worry. However, I will say that it was NO fun. It was two hours long, and I can’t tell you how many injections I had to have to stay numb enough (I can’t have Novocaine, it gives me bad reactions). There’s a lot of work that goes into taking a tooth, emptying it, filling it with crap, and then taking a mold with it. I survived though, and feeling slightly woozy, met Master in the office.
Master took one look at me, and offered to bring me home and do the errands himself. I said that I was fine, and really wanted to go with him, so he let me. Before we did anything we went home to feed Samantha and then Master took me out for an orange smoothie since I couldn’t eat solids but was starving.
The next stop was errands. We spend about three hours running errands and I was exhausted when we got home. I really wanted to make my newest recipe though, whole wheat cous cous with tomatoes, capers, oregano, and one more thing I can’t think of right now. It came out really well!
It looks tasty, doesn’t it? I’m still kind of a cooking newb, but every time I cook something I get all proud of myself if it comes out well. The sucky thing is, Master doesn’t like most of the food I make, so my cooking goes largely unappreciated. Don’t go thinking I never cook him meat though, because I do! It’s just that, Master just wants meat, cheese, and no spices. There’s honestly not much you can do with that to be creative. He also is not a huge fan of veggies, but he does like my lemony potatoes. (They’re potatoes though! Of course he likes potatoes!).
Today, I’m trying to look on the bright side. Things are looking up – my Mom is in great spirits, Samantha has gained a pound and is improving a lot (Though, I’m still waiting on test results as I write this!). Master and me had a tough week last week, but things are getting better. I’m spending the entire day working on cleaning the house and getting some cooking done ahead of time (some to freeze, and some for lunches, etc so we don’t have to cook so much on hot days). I feel very domestic.
I feel like I’ve had quite a few shitty days, and am just looking forward to a couple happy ones. I think I’m due.