Entry tags:
Today's Keyboard Smash
Hooookay... Yes, my dog has Cushing's. We're still waiting on medication to start her on. An ultrasound would tell whether it's a growth on the pituitary (typically benign) or the adrenals (frequently malignant), but we're not doing that. It won't make a difference for how to treat the Cushing's itself, and if it's malignant, well, we're just gonna have to cope with that. She's too old and decrepit to consider surgery. I've known people who have gone the full chemo route with their dogs, and it has only ever been a horrific ordeal for all parties that doesn't do shit to improve or prolong the dog's life. So. Ignorance is going to be, if not bliss, then at least functioning.
Apparently, the dozy cow who took my dog in for the testing didn't bother to tell anyone that we had warned of the toe-nibbling tendencies. The vet, in penance, didn't charge for checking *that* out. She gets antibiotics again and twice daily foot soaks. The Cushing's makes them more vulnerable to infections, which explains why we couldn't seem to shake this skin condition even as the other dog improved. And infection is apparently a cause for the toe nibbling, so they must have been going bad even before she had the chance to gnaw them to bits.
I'm...I'm upset, but also not? I mean, fuck, I'm not pleased about any of this. But Cushing's, as I mentioned, is an old familiar enemy at this point. There are things I can do. It's not all over yet. So I'm just...getting on with things, which is what I always do. What other choice is there?
Meanwhile, I got another pay bump at work, submitted the paperwork to get the next one, and got briefly cornered by one of the upper bosses to ask if I was interested in applying for the team lead position in another department. Because, and I quote, "your name keeps coming up in conversations." This while I sat in my car, attempting to leave at the end of the day. They saw me in the halls but still ended up tracking me down in the parking lot. They're...they're kind of a weirdo on a good day.
I'm getting blunter in my refusals to take these suggested admin positions. I understand that I have management experience, which is like some kind of wet dream for these people. I understand that I would be very good at it, because I'm very good at a number of things when pressed. They don't seem to understand that it was just a fluke of the universe that I ended up in a management position before--it has nothing to do with what I want for myself. I WANT to be left to my machines.
I need to get swol, I've decided. If I'm swol, they'll take me seriously when I say I want to become the set-up tech someday. Very much considered a man's job. Burly types. I could do it, though, I think. In any case, I definitely want the training for it, because I have a position I'm shooting for, on a lifetime scale there, and I need to know these things. Fuck admin shit. Give me a wrench.
Apparently, the dozy cow who took my dog in for the testing didn't bother to tell anyone that we had warned of the toe-nibbling tendencies. The vet, in penance, didn't charge for checking *that* out. She gets antibiotics again and twice daily foot soaks. The Cushing's makes them more vulnerable to infections, which explains why we couldn't seem to shake this skin condition even as the other dog improved. And infection is apparently a cause for the toe nibbling, so they must have been going bad even before she had the chance to gnaw them to bits.
I'm...I'm upset, but also not? I mean, fuck, I'm not pleased about any of this. But Cushing's, as I mentioned, is an old familiar enemy at this point. There are things I can do. It's not all over yet. So I'm just...getting on with things, which is what I always do. What other choice is there?
Meanwhile, I got another pay bump at work, submitted the paperwork to get the next one, and got briefly cornered by one of the upper bosses to ask if I was interested in applying for the team lead position in another department. Because, and I quote, "your name keeps coming up in conversations." This while I sat in my car, attempting to leave at the end of the day. They saw me in the halls but still ended up tracking me down in the parking lot. They're...they're kind of a weirdo on a good day.
I'm getting blunter in my refusals to take these suggested admin positions. I understand that I have management experience, which is like some kind of wet dream for these people. I understand that I would be very good at it, because I'm very good at a number of things when pressed. They don't seem to understand that it was just a fluke of the universe that I ended up in a management position before--it has nothing to do with what I want for myself. I WANT to be left to my machines.
I need to get swol, I've decided. If I'm swol, they'll take me seriously when I say I want to become the set-up tech someday. Very much considered a man's job. Burly types. I could do it, though, I think. In any case, I definitely want the training for it, because I have a position I'm shooting for, on a lifetime scale there, and I need to know these things. Fuck admin shit. Give me a wrench.