Finished my Cheerios this morning and noticed the house was a little chilly. I thought, nobody is going to mind if I boost the thermostat a bit, given what we’ve been through. Went over to turn it up, but guess what? I had forgotten to turn it up when I got up this morning. It was 64 and I only found it “a little chilly.” Just shows what you can get used to.
We were sitting around Sue’s table in the dark last night weighing the relative merits of buying a generator, buying a kerosene heater, or getting a hotel room one night this weekend as we finished our third day without electricity. I didn’t like any of the choices. My choice would have been to move into a hotel room and stay there, and damn the expenses. But as I bit my tongue, the light went on in the refrigerator behind Sue and I heard the fridge burp into action. I pointed at the fridge and made noises. I couldn’t think of the word “electricity,” or “light,” or “hurray.” We were back in business.
I ran upstairs to see what had turned on. The electric thermostat now read 46. Joey called the neighbors, who had disappeared with everyone else around here, and let them know power was flowing. I called my mom. There were 16 messages on our phone. We didn’t have phone service during the outage, and weren’t able to retrieve them. And I also discovered a message on my cell from my University of Louisville colleague Christina Weaver. She was inviting us to come stay at her place, which warmed me up even more than the realization we were going to have hot water again. Yay Christina!
Other good news. I didn’t tell you, but I had to take Tula back to the vet yesterday. I was very worried about the amount of vomiting she was doing. And yesterday morning she added diarrhea to her problems. On Tuesday, the vet had warned she may have some kind of obstruction, but tried her on stomach meds before doing something more expensive. Yeterday’s vomiting and diarrhea told me this this wasn’t just a bad tummy. This time, the vet x-rayed and kept her for the day. When I picked her up later in the evening, he showed me her films.
X-rays are such beautiful things. I love the bright white of bone, the architecture of Tula’s pelvis. The shadowy things can be as scary as ghosts if you try to figure out what you’re seeing without some help. But Dr. Turns showed me her gas-filled secum and tummy, and then the long ribbon of who-knows-what making its way through her colon. This is the source of her troubles. But since it is in the colon, it should come out soon. We’re to feed her in small servings at intervals, which makes her cry. She is hungry. Since this vomiting started she dropped from 49 to 46 pounds. And she’s also on new medicine to help the object make its way through her system. We had an episode like this once when she was a puppy: Vomiting and lots of gas that lasted two days. Finally, she vomited up four of my socks. We’re lucky she’s alive.
This morning, no vomiting, no diarrhea, but no object either. But I’m more optimistic now. Sixty-seven degrees will do that to you.