Rollercoster of a week

Sorry. I really meant to do one blog a week. So that is already off to a magnificent start.

In cat world: We found out my foster cat Lizbeth had some sort of mass. Maybe cancer. Maybe just full of poo. Saw another vet. During her spay, found out that THREE vets were wrong and she WAS pregnant, but as she had already been put under anesthesia & given a distemper vaccination (which caused birth defects), the kittens were gone. So it was a sad happy day. Happy she didn't have cancer. Sad that she was pregnant and it was missed by so many doctors. But happy again that her spay went well and she can be put up adoption. So Lizbeth is getting ready for her formal reveal, if you will, for adoption.

So because Lizbeth is ready for her next step, and kitten season is starting, I took in a new pregnant kitty to foster. Her name is mama Mia. I got her Wednesday - she was very scared. Didn't even come out of the boxes in the room for me. We knew she was close to going into labor, so I had a variety of boxes for her to choose from. And on Saturday, she choose a nice large dog crate, lined with many blankets and covered with another for more privacy. Which was great for me because I could see into it better than the boxes! So I got to see her give birth to 5 kittens! Well I missed the first one but only by a minute or two! It seemed that her labor went relatively easy for her so that was a relief for me. Even though just a kitten still herself, she did a great job. Taking some quick cat naps - ha! - when she could between babies. We have 4 grey and 1 black kittens now, and so far everyone is doing well. And since they were born on St Patty's Day, I am going to name them all Irish names! Still working on that though.

All of this was going on while one of my personal cats, Roxy, had her UTI come back with a vengeance. You know, the first thing you want to see at 5:02am as you get ready for work, is your cat peeing on your work pants. So fluids, meds and spending time our bathroom were in order for her. And then, if that weren't enough, one of my male cats, Big Mo, decided to act out by peeing in one bathroom and on the door to the room where she was ... >< Those are stabby eyes. So he also spent some quality time alone.

Is that enough for cat world in a week?! I hope so.

I saved this post last night and this morning, my heart broke as I found two of the kittens had passed away overnight. After I went to work, my husband said another did as well. Right now there are only two kittens left, one grey, one black, and the black one seems very weak and we are worried about fading kitten syndrome. I kept busy at work today, but if I had a moment where I had to think, my stomach just balled up and my brain raced back to holding the tiny, tiny creatures in my hands this morning. So many tears. I know I am so grateful that they and Mama Mia had a warm, safe place to be born & give birth but being helpless as you watch Mother Nature do what she needs to do is devastating. I knew the risk was great as Mama Mia had no care during her pregnancy and is very underweight - only 7 lbs when pregnant! - but no matter how much I remind myself of that, my throat closes, tears well up and I want to shake my fists in frustration at all the things I cannot do.

Losing kittens, sadly these were not my first, just the youngest, won't make me stop fostering or stop caring, but I do allow myself the time to grieve and remember that even for a short time, I gave them, and all my fosters, the best chance I could with all the love and then some that I had to give.

Irritability

Irritability has always been a sign to me that something is going on with my depression. I am not sure when I figured that out, but for the last 5 or so years, I can see it as a red flag. Sometimes, my being irritated, like I am right now by the smell of the overripe banana on my table that I forgot to eat Saturday, is normal. Stupid, smelly banana. But sometimes, I am irritated at everyone for no good reason, or nothing that I normally like to do sounds good to me anymore. I don't want to scrapbook or make cards or read. Everything Jim says or does or doesn't do, makes me see red. (Sometimes this is ACTUALLY based on reality, but most often, it's because I am crazy.)

Those times are when I worry.

The last time it got out of hand, we tried a new anti-depressant because after the irritability came the hopeless thoughts. So far, something like 3 years, that new anti-depressant has been working just fine.

I have noticed more irritability lately, so I have on my counselor hat, analyzing myself. Is this normal irritability? (and by normal, I mean normal Tracie irritability. I mean, most normal people would throw the banana away. Tracie will let it sit there and annoy her.) Am I enjoying my normal activities? Was that a hopeless thought or will the elliptical actually kill me?

Its been several years since I knew I needed outside help to get over the current hurdle my depression had thrown up (ew - that seems like my depression vomited. huh. Maybe that's a good way to think of it.) in my way. But that doesn't mean I don't have CONSTANT VIGILANCE! (nerd alert) to paying attention to how the current path is treating me. I still see a counselor every 3 weeks or so, and feel like this is something I will probably do most of my life. The same with meds.

Jim is home now. Time to see what annoys me.