The Post in Which I Get to ... →[More:]... be scared, relieved, happy and sad.

The mister's ablation was last Wednesday at a Vancouver hospital. It went great per his doctor.

Early in the morning on Thursday the mister was in so much pain we didn't know if he was having a reaction to the surgery or a heart attack. He couldn't make a decision so I dressed myself and him and took him to the local ER. After several hours of pain meds, tests, etc. it was an extreme pain reaction to the surgery. They still don't know what caused it physically (swelling around the heart sac is their closest guess) but the doctor who did the surgery said he had done more work on the mister's heart than expected and the reaction wasn't unexpected. Yes, it's crazy-making.

The mister was released Friday noon and has been getting better every day since then. He's even walked the dog a couple times.

Mum was here starting on Tuesday afternoon to help with the animals (to let the dog out to pee for the most part) and was a good asset. She went home on Sunday.

On Monday I had an appointment for a pulmonary thingie (I'm having "wheezing" issues). Went out to the car to go to the appointment and it's dead. Canceled the appointment and called BCAA to give the car a jump but it was dead again the next morning. Took the car to the dealer and had a new battery put in.

The mister's long-term disability was finally approved today. He hasn't been paid in over a month (thank the gods for a line-of-credit) so having money coming in again will be nice. (There's a much longer story but I am trying to keep it short.)

I had been thinking this week could have gone a lot worse than it did and then my mum called this evening.

She had to have Ciaran the Cat euthanised this afternoon. He fell off of the counter after getting a drink. He then jumped onto Mum's bed where he proceeded to throw up. Mum removed him from the bed and he promptly shat himself. A bit later he got on the bed again and voided his bladder all over the bed. He was yowling the whole time. Mum got his carrier and he went right into it. Her regular vet couldn't see him but referred her to an emergency vet. They're not sure how it happened but he had a clot in one of his front legs. The leg was already cold and the normally black pads on his paw were purple. The "remedy" was lots of time at the vet, probable amputation of his front leg and only a 5% chance that he would survive. After Mum made the decision, the vet, who is also a "cat person" said that was the decision she would have made if it were her cat. Ciaran, whom I've mentioned here before, was my cat for a year. He was born 13 years ago in January and was the only black kitten a litter of feral kittens in my apartment complex. He was also the only kitten who wasn't afraid of me and for a few evenings waited for me on the bottom step of the stairs that went to my apartment. I had him for a year until I moved to Seattle. My mum kept him and another cat of mine (Sancho) until I got settled. She claimed that possession was 9/10ths of the law and she and Ciaran had bonded. So she kept Ciaran and returned Sancho to me. Even when it had been months since he'd seen me he was always quick to get in my lap for hugs and kisses.