Don’t forget we moved!
https://brandmu.day/
Real Life Struggles/Support/Vent
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Day 2 of “all must be in” week. Working from home, unsurprisingly woke up with a sore throat.
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Today’s reminder that you’re living in a capitalist hellscape with no real end in sight:
Today I had to lower my percentage of my paycheck goes into my 401k and my stock buy-in plan at my company because the larger paycheck will help us afford a new place to live that doesn’t have rotting windows. And the lease I almost signed last night before nopping the fuck out was a pet condition that if "you pet has to be removed from the premises for any reason(such has behavior, danger to the apartment, or even death), the monthy pet fee will not change.
So what you’re saying is that, if one of my cats fucking dies, I still have to pay the month cost of his fee as if he was still still alive? How are you not aware of how absolutely fucked up that is?
Oh. Right. Because we’re living in a capitalistic hellscape.
I don't know what I'm doing. Poke at Seven Nations sevennations.aresmush.com port 2021
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WOW, I’m glad you noped out of that shit.
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today was hard, but I made it through.
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@Testament said in Real Life Struggles/Support/Vent:
So what you’re saying is that, if one of my cats fucking dies, I still have to pay the month cost of his fee as if he was still still alive? How are you not aware of how absolutely fucked up that is?
Wow, holy shit. That’s beyond fucked.
If (and only if) you feel like you have the space for it on your mental load, drop them a scathing online review in Google et al, citing this policy so prospective renters (who might not read as thoroughly) don’t fall afoul of it.
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fuck cancer
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I started to write this in response to the AoA conversation but once it took form, that was the wrong space for it. And it was a bit longer and more specific to something that’s actively going on right now, but I deleted most of that because it made me sad. And honestly, I still haven’t unpacked half of what I’m feeling about it. I seriously might just not.
Right now, I specifically teach young adults with significant learning accommodations. It’s not all altruistic, I’m in grad school so it’s basically an indentured servant situation. They’re undergrads, late teens-early 20s. I just call them kids because you’re still a kid at that age no matter how many PhD-having 22-year-olds or 23-year-old military-hero Dukes there are on mu’s.
The times I feel like I need a drink are less from the behavior of my kids and more from… when the rest of the world decides to throw another fucking wrench into the mix. Usually at them.
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@helvetica I think (I hope?) a lot of us are having the same feels about that thread. What started as something helpful to warn the community about a predator has turned into … I don’t even know, honestly. A bitch fest about children? Adults with mental disabilties? Seriously, guys?? Get a grip.
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I find every time the “someone is disabled, there’s no way they could x” type of thing i have very mixed feelings.
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My elderly cat passed away suddenly on Friday. It still hasn’t really hit me yet. Not fully. We didn’t know how sick he was until the very end, because he did an excellent job at hiding it, and it was only after he gone that we thought backward to noticing a lot of small little things that neither me nor my partner really noticed at the time.
He had been breathing really heavily for the last week, which made us take him to the vet on Friday. During that day, my partner calls me at work and tells me what’s going on is pretty bad. Fluid has been filling in his chest cavity and pressing on his lungs, which is what had been causing the labored breathing. X rays also showed some kind of large mass around his stomach/liver area, which is likely what was causing the fluid build up. The vet recommended we take Fuzz to the emergency ER across town, who could do a procedure that would tap the fluid and drain it, allowing him to breath, but with the understanding that it might give him a couple days to a couple weeks. He was 16 at this point, there was really no feasible way to even consider any kind of cancer treatment. And the vet was almost certain this was cancer.
My supervisor let me leave work, and saying it was my last day in the lab anyways, to just go and she’d be fine with calling it sick time(so long as I didn’t say why I was leaving) and met up with my partner. We were told to go home and come back in three hours or so to pick him up. So we waited, coming to terms that we were limited time with Fuzz at this point. What we would do when we brought him home, how we would take care of him, and most importantly, spend time with him. He was such a chill, patient, and tolerant cat. When we went to go get him, we figure we were just going to get him and take him home. Only to be told that the tap didn’t go well.
What were told that, if Fuzz had been a bit younger, his lungs may of been able to recover after the fluid was drained. But due to his age, it was really possible this lungs basically collapsed on themselves, preventing him from really breathing. They told us this much initially, apologized and told my partner that this was a risk of the procedure, but if we didn’t do anything, he was likely going to pass. So we thought there wasn’t much of a choice. Better to do something than nothing. Only it felt like doing something was the worst option. When they brought him in, and saw him gasping for air, that was about where I started to fall apart. They gave him a sedative to calm him down, to slow the gasping for air, and I knew at that point that we had to let him go. There was nothing for us to do.
Suddenly, I felt myself back in the room when my Old Man of 17 years passed away in Dec 2020. Same ER vet, same room, I was wearing the same fucking shoes. The same goddamn Yeezy 350s. We had to say goodbye right there, for a second time, after being told that we would be able to take our cat home, only to be then have the carpet yanked under our feet. It happened in Dec 2020 and now it’s happening again. And I just went back to the point, where it call came flooding back to me. And I just feel the fuck apart. And I couldn’t stop it. How could I? You can’t stop cancer, if we had taken him to the vet sooner, he could’ve passed faster. I try to think he didn’t suffer a lot. Even if I think of what I could’ve done differently. What I could have done. Or what I didn’t do. I know it’s not a thing to do, that I’ll just torment myself. Since I apparently torment myself on the daily already with my own depression.
So. Fuzz was gone, and another part of me gone with him. But it was 7pm at night. In February. We have a pet cemetery at my mom’s farm. A spot in the woods where a lot of the family pets are buried. I called my mom, who said we could do it tomorrow, let my step-dad hook up the post-hole digger to the backhoe. Farm equipment just to dig a three foot hole to bury a cat. Seemed like a lot but better than taking a shovel to frozen dirt. We go home, shattered.
Yesterday, I decided that we need to go to the gym. I need keep some semblance of good habits. See our trainer, talk to her. She knew what happened, and had already said she’d understand if we didn’t want to come in. After the gym, I get a message from my best woman from my wedding. A woman who I’ve known since I was 16. She calls me sobbing, which I found surprising since she is never one to cry. She apologized for asking me of this, especially since she knew about Fuzz, but she begged me to help her cat. Her cat, Nyanta, had surgery last week because he’s an idiot and somehow got in my friend’s yarn supply and had eaten far too much yarn. This required a $5k surgery to remove the yarn. At some point, his incision had opened and become infected, as puss was leaking from the wound. Fearing the worse, she called me, because the only ER vet was in my city. And she, is terrified of city driving due to a bad accident she was in some years ago.
So, instead of burying my cat like I had wanted to, put it behind me as best as I could, I said I would help. I couldn’t save Fuzz. He was already gone. But I could help my friend’s cat. What followed was a 50 minutes drive(one way, so this drive happened four times yesterday) in one direction. Get her, her cat, and her 1.5 year old son, drive them back up to my city, get them to the ER vet and proceed to wait for the next four hours at my apartment to get her cat, take them home, and then come back home. Exhausted, emotionally fragile and just wishing this weekend could actually be over, the realization in my head is, and still is, “I still have to bury Fuzz.” Called my mom, she said the hole had already been dug. That we’ll go to the vet to get Fuzz’s body, come down, and bury him.
We’re about to do that this morning. I just wanted to write all this down, get it down, get it into my state of mind. Trying to just get the emotional and mental energy to finish what should’ve happened 24 hours ago. I don’t regret helping my friend and her cat, and she felt terrible for even asking, but it’s only now, as I write this how exhausted I am. This has been an emotionally hard weekend, I think I’m ready to go back to work.
Please, go hug your pets.
Oh, and to put a topper on all of this, the wifi card in my desktop fried out. So that’s just the last thing that finally set me off. That’s appropos of nothing, just to note how much this weekend has sucked.
I don't know what I'm doing. Poke at Seven Nations sevennations.aresmush.com port 2021
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Just… hug
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@Testament I’m so sorry. Losing a pet sucks. No matter what the circumstances, it fucking sucks.
You gave him a good life and you did right by him.
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@Testament I’m so sorry, man.
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@Testament Thank you for doing what you could to ease Fuzz’s suffering, and for being there at the end. I’m sorry it hurt so much to do.
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@Testament I’m so sorry. Remember to feel all your feels and they are very very very valid.
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Fucking people.
This made for a nice relaxing day.
Not.
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@Testament The lungs filling with fluid is what did my Fussy-cat in on April 1, 2022. I did the same procedure you did to give her a fighting chance, but also had to put her down on the same day, to do the humane thing. I feel for you and am so sorry for your loss. She’s in my daily routine to tell my dogs goodbye when I leave for work, telling her, my husband, and my dog who all passed that I love them all and miss them all very much.
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“assume positive intent” is so haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard sometimes
the entity previously known as Sunny
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@IoleRae said in Real Life Struggles/Support/Vent:
“assume positive intent” is so haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard sometimes
