And so, I decided to ease Zillah's suffering and put him to rest today. He died in a matter of seconds after an overdose of anaesthesia--euthanasia at its finest. He was not scared. He freaked out a little bit when they put the IV in his front leg... but after they let me be with him for a few minutes before the dose... he calmed down. And then I was with him as an assistant held him and the vet put the dose into his IV.

My mother was with me, but she left the room for the dose. I wished she'd stayed in the lobby the entire time... she was driving me insane.... like... violently mad. It was my decision to put him to sleep rather than prolong his suffering. But she kept saying pithy things that made me want to shove her against a wall.

My dad helped me dig his grave, despite the fact that it's illegal to bury your pets in your yard here. Fuck you, Kentucky. I asked them both to leave me alone with him, and I removed him from the box and cradled him in a towel and kissed him goodbye.

So, that's the end of Zillah's story. Seven years of purring in my ear, begging for my dinner, weaving around my feet, head-butting me....

And then there's you.... what am I going to do with you?

Zillah is not doing so hot. I think he is progressively going downhill. I don't know what I'm going to do... or if I can even drive him to an animal hospital to have him put down. It might have to be tomorrow.

My heart hurts.

In other news, it appears people love to split open old wounds and rub salt into them. Unfortunately, now is really not the time to fuck with me as my eyes are already raw from crying and my entire body feels like it's been wrapped in barbed wire and pulled in 50 different directions. But I digress.

Shall I dictate this bizarre conversation I just had? Oh, yes. If you know who this person is, feel free to shed some light on the subject for me.

Mesashu: .
Mesashu: =P
fyxation: eh
Mesashu: hmmm
fyxation: hmmm yourself
Mesashu: yup
fyxation: there is hair in my keyboard. i think it's alive
Mesashu: well i have some milk and its rather good
fyxation: milk does a body good
Mesashu: yup
fyxation: and makes you produce mucous faster.
Mesashu: i use it for hangovers
Mesashu: ^_^ which i dont have right now
fyxation: /is shocked
Mesashu: really --__--
Mesashu: so what ya doing
Mesashu: i am playing world of warcraft
fyxation: soaking my latest victim in a vat of acid
Mesashu: sounds promising
fyxation: i can schedule you in, if you like
Mesashu: well a boar justed killed me so i guess my schedule is open.... is that how u spell schedule?
fyxation: yes
Mesashu: wow learn a new thing every day
fyxation: mmmyep
Mesashu: well its nice to chat with ya, oh and rask says ouch. tata
fyxation: take care, then.
Mesashu signed off at 2:22:21 PM.

Keep in mind, that this is often how I respond to strange names that IM me. But then the sudden name-dropping at the end threw me off so much that I didn't know what to say.

By the way, I fucking know that it was you. I saw that my diary was hit by someone from Tacoma--and who else could that possibly be?

Hush, it's okay, dry your eyes....

I wish they could euthanize me with my cat.

Zillah is doing much better than when I took him to the vet. I think the injections he was given have helped him a lot. He's breathing easier (one of the shots was to decrease the fluids in his chest and the swelling). He has been sitting in my dad's den, drinking milk and water and nibbling on chicken and dry cat food. I gave him a can of soft cat food last night and he ate most of it, which pleases me. He's also been able to venture to the litterbox a few times and is even sitting on the floor behind me right now (far from my dad's den).

I do not hope against hope that he's going to have some miracle happen to him. I know that it is only a matter of time before his illness takes ahold of him. But in the meanwhile, I will care for him as best I can so that he is comfortable. I am being very vigilant as I watch him for any signs of pain or distress. The vet called yesterday and left a message. I'm going to call her today and ask if there's anything else I can do for him at this point. She's said that they could look into giving him an ultrasound or perhaps chemo--but she was also very honest with me and said that this would be expensive and most likely would not prolong his life in a manner that would be good for him (in other words, I'd be keeping him alive for my sake... which I would never want to do. The thought of him suffering hurts more than the thought of him dying). Even if I had the money, I would not put him through that.

So, give him your little kitty prayers. He's not long for this earth. Watching him, as I have told others, is like watching a ticking bomb.

Ah, he's wandered back to my dad's den.

He purrs so fervently when I smother him with pettings and nuzzles. And he's actually meowed a couple times. I know he knows he's in bad shape. I wonder what he's thinking....

*edit 11:45PM*
*listening to VNV Nation, "Homeward"*

I guess I'm still in a state of shock. Like an exposed nerve walking. The knot in my stomach will not unfurl.

*/edit*

The reign of Zillah the Brat Prince is coming to an end, I'm afraid. I took him to the vet early this morning, after not sleeping a wink through the entire night as I watched him labor to breathe. Well, it turns out he has cancer. This cancer (or giant tumor) has pressed completely in on one of his lungs and is closing in on the other one. Prognosis: take a wild guess.

Well, I could have had him euthanized right then... But the vet said I could take him home with me and be with him for a bit. Could be hours, days, a week. I'm thinking a day at most. She told me where I could take him when the time comes to put him to rest, and I'm okay with that for now. Just a little bit of time with him...

Of course, I haven't stopped crying since I got the prognosis. He is the most gentle creature and so sweet... And I love him more than I, or anyone, could explain in simple words.

Yesterday, my intuition was bolting nails into my stomach, folding it in on itself... and I knew it was bad... I just knew he wasn't going to make it.

I have to keep a careful eye on him. I don't want to see him suffering in the very least....

Something is wrong with Zillah... He's been having trouble breathing the last few weeks. I suppose I'll set up an appointment with a vet now, before it gets worse. He seems so miserable ; ; I hope it's not serious.

I did some research on Phaeochromocytoma for my mom (that's what the doctors think she has). Seems the only thing they can do about it is try to get her blood pressure down to normal levels (which they haven't been very successful with so far), and then remove the affected adrenal gland. It's usually benign, so that's good, at least. It only spreads in 1 of of 10 people. Oh, and it's genetic. GO GO SUPER GENEPOOL!

Why does shit always happen in threes?
Brother's got brain damage.
Mom might have cancer.
Cat might have a respiratory infection or something worse.

YAY.

I'd like to try to be optimistic about all three things. aksgfalskh Needless to say, I haven't been having the easiest time getting to sleep... and when I do manage to go to sleep, I over sleep. And my stomach hates me :D

My mom called last night to tell me that my brother most likely has brain damage. When he was in the ICU a couple months ago for his pancreas failure/seizure/omgwtf, he apparently died and was brought back--which is why they think he has brain damage. Lack of oxygen to the brain. His IQ and memory have been damaged. I suppose after 3 blood transfusions, being on a breathing machine plugged into your throat, being in the ICU for a month, and having died... he'll never be quite right again.

My mother also informed me that her doctors think she may have a tumor on her adrenal gland, which is what's causing her blood pressure to be all messed up along with her health in general. A few tests have already led to this diagnosis, but they'll be doing more soon, including an MRI and poking her with sharp objects again and again. She wanted me to look all these medical terms up on the internet, despite how many times I've told her that it's pointless. (1. it leads to self-diagnosing, 2. I don't have a printer to give her this info, anyway, 3. I seriously doubt I'll find any valuable information at all.) But I suppose I'll do it, just to appease her. I'm sure google will find something interesting on metanephrines.

In other news, I'm totally grossed out by one of my male friend's advances on me. Every time he touches me, I want to throw up and run away. And I found out he has feelings for me, which makes me want to run the hell away even more. He seems to be completely oblivious when I openly edge away from him or flatly say "ew" when he touches me. He might just be retarded enough to think that's my idea of playing hard to get, but, no, that's me seriously thinking, "ew." I've never been interested in him, and I never will be. The sooner he gets this through his skull, the happier we'll both be.

Take the quiz: "What color are you?"

Gray
Your color is gray... You are neutral... neither here nor there... not settled, not understood, unpredictable, plain, somewhat boring, ordinary.... Not lively in any way.... Never happy, never sad, mad or anything!

Meh.... I don't have the money to renew a gold membership with Diaryland, so if things start looking retarded soon (IE no background), that's why. Now that I think about it, I never really use the gold membership features, anyway. hah!

So... My friend Chris gave me this big spongy dick with a vibrator inside. She apparently got it in a gift bag from Pricilla's (a local "adult" toy store), and it had a bunch of dumb stuff in it like this.

Well, this is my new source of comedic relief. I almost wish I could hang it from my rearview mirror, but it's kinda big and would obstruct my vision.

Behold my dick:

Oh, and we put batteries in it--it works!

Awesome.

I haven't been in the mood to write much lately. Eat me. When I do feel like writing again, I'll be sure to blab about some inconsequential garbage in my life for all to see!

I need a job. Badly.

Stalking from outerspace.

It's all part of my diabolical plan. No, really. It involves a goose and a ten foot pole.

God, my head hurts. Not in a migrainy/sinus/can't see straight way... just a so tired I can't think properly way.

grrf.

-.- Well, after being my mom's cab from the hospital twice this month... she won't leave me alone. My dad said she called about 5 times yesterday until she finally got ahold of me, and then she came over to have me try on some jeans. Then she told me she's worried about me and she hugged me (something she NEVER does... I can probably count how many times she's hugged me on one hand).

I don't know what to think. It's funny, because last night I was semi-stating my concern about having PCOD/S, but I hadn't had much pain around my ovaries aside from a twinge here and there, which I thought nothing of. Today, as I went shopping for catfood, a sort of constant twinge started on my left side... right in that spot. And I should be ovulating right now... so, it makes sense.

-.- I'm hoping it's all psychosomatic and it goes away.

Anyway, my mom's apparently been calling all day today, too.

You know, having defective ovaries isn't that life-threatening... beside the possibility of becoming diabetic. If, for some reason, it does become serious... Meh, I dunno what I will do. Probably go out with a whimper.

Oh, and those jeans she got barely fit my fat ass... and they're 2 sizes bigger than what I was wearing last year. Hurray....

So, I've been sleeping on a pile of rose quartz, carnelians, amethysts, some tiger's eyes, and a hematite. Oh, what strange dreams I am having. The dreams are vivid and lifelike, and I usually see someone whom I haven't in a few years. Yesterday, I was visited by Wood. I think we were on some city street, just talking casually as we used to do. I don't recall much of it except his fluffy hair.

I saw Batman Begins today with Toni. 'Twas good, overall.

Last night, I had to pick my mother up from the ER because her blood pressure had sky-rocketed to 190/110. She'd driven to the UTC, and the UTC called an ambulance to take her to St. Joe. This exact same incident had happened before several months ago, but her blood pressure had been 220/120 then. Yeah, stroke/heart attack levels.

Anyhow, I picked her up and we got some dinner. She seemed better. We had a nice long chat (mostly about my brother... -.-). I get all oogy in the stomach every time I see her with bruises on her arms where she's been stuck with needles or with bandages on the stickings. EEee. After our chat, I drove her to her car at the UTC.

Tonight, around 11:30, I got a phone call from the hospital again. They said she was being admitted right then. The nurse just wanted to tell me where her car was (which... doesn't help me any, since I don't have keys to it). I asked if it was the blood pressure again, and the nurse said it was... and nothing more. There was no urgency in her voice; it were as though she was just casually passing on a message to me. So, I hope that's all it is. I guess I'll try to reach my mom tomorrow.

Gods, this has me on edge in such a bad way that I don't even want to think about it. I hope she's okay.

I'm going to call AAA tomorrow and finally have them tow my dad's car to a garage, because I really need to have my car so I can get out there and look for a job (which I dread so much... but not as much as I dread being pennyless).

Maybe I can have AAA tow my mom's car to her house... or something >.>; She's the membership holder and gave me a membership in her name, so it shouldn't be a problem... but AAA is evil, sometimes.

What will happen if my mother has a stroke or a heart attack? No, I just don't want to think about it.

I've been feelin' pretty shitty lately. I mean, standing in the hallway-breakdown in tears in midstep-shitty. I'll chalk it up to hormonal imbalance.

Yesterday was my dad's birthday. A couple days before, he told me not to get him anything--to "save my money." He told me he'd rather have a cake than gifts. A few hours after that, he told me that when I get a decent job and a few years down the road, we can buy a house that I like. He said that when he dies ("Don't worry, I've got quite a few years left..."), the house would be mine, and I wouldn't have to deal with taxes and such.

It made me really sad for many reasons. Firstly, I don't want to live with him for the rest of his life. Secondly, he must think I don't want more... that I want to be an "old maid" forever. Maybe he thinks I can't do any better. Thirdly, I don't want to leave him all alone. When I leave, he will be alone. He needs company.

Every time I think about suicide, I wonder what would happen to him. It makes me feel even more wretched...

Anyhow, yesterday, I got up and baked a cake. We'd marinaded some steaks the night before to have, too. Well, he got home... (My mother bugged the piss out of me yesterday, too. She called, came over, went home, called again) then he sat in his den for a little while as my mom was talking my ear off. Then he went to my sister's house. I didn't go. I'm done with politely putting on a neutral face for her. When I see her, I don't know whether to throw up or rip her face off.

He came home with leftover store-bought cake.

The cake I made still hasn't been touched. We had the steaks today, since he ate at her house.

Oh, and he's driving my car since his died on the weekend, so I can't go anywhere. YAY.

I didn't watch any fireworks yesterday. I heard them while I was in my room. Sounded like an aerial assault.

Zillah has some sort of respiratory problem, I think. He's been having lil asthma attacks. Poor kitty.