Little Flickers of the Candle

I mean for this to be a short post though often that is my intention and I have yet to muster one of those. I am listening to Sprite who is so soft and I am in that just woke up from my nap space still. I am making morbid associations that I can normally shunt away, I find it a bit fascinating. These are the little flickers of the mind’s candle. They are the sudden illuminations that can lead to a gasping breath as the ideas start to coalesce or clot together.

I am wondering if Sprite, who doesn’t actually like the traditional pet bed but who at the vet’s office when Nymph’s time came climbed in first, then settled down and waited with the little one actually understood that the bed was for Ny’s comfort? She has had them offered at various vets, and shunned them each time. She has her own of a sorts, it’s a lot more cloud like, a dark color, coated in catnip and she has yet to touch it. Though she was staring at it in her basket with this great look of melancholy. That or the cleaning of the basket and the addition of padding instead of a blanket is no longer “right” because it now holds no scent of the little paws and bright eyes she and I love.

There are now no hidden corners in which she can rest and inhale the warm scents, if now a bit musty, of Nymph. There are now no spaces or places in which to hide, really. Those were either changed, destroyed, or moved. This was necessary so that she can be healthy and whomever comes to live with us too. Yet I see the flickers of sorrow in her at this. Her pain is great. Not that mine isn’t but I feel hers is greater. She has never been this sad to be away from other cats.

Not Thor, whom she had wrapped around her tail and was her loyal male slave like creature. Not a lover, but instead the fetcher of toys and the kneeling footman awaiting instruction with the flick of her tail. She didn’t like his companion Mid-Knight much at all but was sorry he fell ill, Mid-Knight seemed to resent her more than she didn’t care too much about him. It was all her playfulness and rejuvinating his once quiet friend. This darned female had gotten Thor up to running up trees, despite being declawed. I always worried about Thor being allowed outside with his defenses gone, but he was not my cat. I could barely keep her in once we discovered her allergy there.

William Shakespurr, whose perfect owner is now dead as Craigslist displayed while I was companion hunting, he was not mourned for even an hour. The atmosphere was celebratory for both of us. His blundering forcefulness while endearing left us both with literal wounds and literal scars. My nearly dying at the hands of this cat was just too much to bear.

No, it was Nymph who wooed and won us. In fact I was unaware how much her presence had changed me. My doctor’s visit today helped showcase some of that. As she commented on the change and just how much cleaner things were, despite the layers of cat clothes which had been left to dry overnight on every available surface, I told her why there was so much cleaning. In fact the only real thing that needed a good scrub in general was my carpet but it looks so much nicer that it IS worth commenting on. Cat vomit stains are gone. I am doubly sold now on a carpet cleaner for myself. Yes, when I told her she was very sad. Then she looked a bit worried, and told me why she was worried

Nymph had been medicinally good for me. My blood pressure went back to normal, I had quite a long year of moderately high blood pressure. Normal for most people is high for me. I wasn’t as pale and pasty, though I am pasty again it isn’t the loss of Nymph but again, uterine dynamighting. She saw both Sprite and myself “blossom”. We became ourselves, as if the missing piece was found. That’s how it had felt with Nymphy too. That little sadness that is there is a ghost of the flickers of her candle. It’s her shadows, her scent. The ghost isn’t something Sprite or myself wanted gone either. Nymph smelled like chocolate to me. Sprite smells like sugar cookies (gluten free of course).

Thor smelled like grass. Mid-Knight’s scent was very gross, though that may have been the impending illness there waiting to be noticed. William Shakespurr smelled like pee, because he would roll in the litterbox after peeing. Very disgusting cat that one. Yet when I would lay with Sprite and Nymph on me I would smell them both and it was better than eating a chocolate chip cookie (dark chocolate chunks).

So as I wake up, via writing, I am left with the rest of the thoughts of her visit. She doesn’t think I am any more depressed than I was a few months ago. Grieving? Yes. Depressed? No. I am always a bit depressed but I didn’t lose any ability to the depression except that one hour a few months ago, before Nymph, when I had to choose to get out of bed because laying there was just being depressive and I didn’t let me. I’ve felt consistently good. Most of the time I am happy. I am death obsessed but, that’s par for the course given my life. My doctor says so. The amount of death I have dealt with outweighs most average US Citizen’s experiences. I think those studies (she could cite them, it was funny) are a bit focused on middle class white people but I could be wrong.

My exhaustion is definately a side effect of the gouts of blood. My blood tests show I actually have been cycling. My uterus is trying to WORK. My ovaries too. Damn them. She was relieved I refused birth control, and having had an anaphalactic response to Yazmin, I plan to continue to do so. That won’t stop this kind of bleeding as my blood is blood not a mix of fleshy bits that pass for blood to the unaware mind and eye. The color is wrong, there is no fade in or fade out as my body tries to get “things done”. I don’t have Cushings Disease, as was a concern for a long time. Yay, no need for Brain Surgery.

The thing is, she also is worried that my current doctor is ignoring the issue. She recommended I sue and move to … California! The fact that my best medical option is moving out of state irks me to a degree. She doesn’t think a hysterectomy is the right answer for me, sure it will fix the bleeding issue but it doesn’t tell us why I am bleeding, is invasive, potentially deadly especially in my case, and could screw me up if I don’t have an answer. It could be cancer but she still thinks, as I have said myself, that it isn’t likely. Not because I don’t have a higher risk or symptoms but because there are less deadly scary things that could be wrong. My hypothesis about Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome causing tears is the most likely. In that case, I have no clue what the treatment will be but I have guesses.

It was good to affirm what I already knew. I am fine, in fact I am hardly a flickering candle most of the time and feeling this weak is very annoying. I am not sure I am able to sue at this moment because of lawyers fees etc but I do like that she has some similar ideas on California’s climate. SHe specified LA, which is my aimed at city. I have a fantastic doctor.

I also started the process for a cat interview with Sprite, so maybe by Monday there will be another cat living here. The cat is a bit older than Ny, but then I thought Ny was too young. I am not going to age discriminate against cats at all. I just hope this set up works out. If not, then the cat’s previous owner/mother will regain property of said feline and that will be that. We’ll just try again. Sprite’s gotten down to sulking most hours because she is lonely and sad. I think another cat around to at least fight with a bit will do her wonders.

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