Entry tags:
The Waiting Game, Round One
Well, friends, here I sit. Perch, really, on a barstool in a little hole-in-the-wall cafe. I've got over two hours before my appointment is scheduled.
Why so much time? I had to return the rental car this morning. Since I have no idea what traffic to expect, I'm giving myself a lot of buffer time on everything. This will result in a lot of sitting around, trying to keep my anxiety under control.
The surgical experience has not gone swimmingly so far. In fairness, it's nothing to do directly with the surgery. Monday, I got home from work to find out one of the horses was suddenly, inexplicably, and severely unwell. None of the local emergency vets was going to be available until the next day. We predicted that was going to be too little, too late, but there were no alternatives. We provided what medical care we could to at least keep her comfortable.
She died in the night. I'll write about her eventually. She was the last show horse and the one I worked with most, because she was active during and after college for me. She was 25, which is a decent run, as far as these things go. I loved her a whole lot. Shit sucks.
So Tuesday morning, with a storm incoming, I helped my mom use the tractor to drag her out into the field. One of our neighbors has a backhoe, and they've dug graves for us several other times. Mom will be able to get her buried with their help, but moving her into position was a process.
Then I got showered, packed up my luggage, and headed out to get the rental car. Then drove for hours, into a storm. To get to a city I've barely visited and only driven in once very briefly. As the most country of country mice, who is more accustomed to driving on unpaved country lanes than narrow, congested city streets.
It's been two and a half days, and this week is fucking with my head.
So here I sit. With tea.
Why so much time? I had to return the rental car this morning. Since I have no idea what traffic to expect, I'm giving myself a lot of buffer time on everything. This will result in a lot of sitting around, trying to keep my anxiety under control.
The surgical experience has not gone swimmingly so far. In fairness, it's nothing to do directly with the surgery. Monday, I got home from work to find out one of the horses was suddenly, inexplicably, and severely unwell. None of the local emergency vets was going to be available until the next day. We predicted that was going to be too little, too late, but there were no alternatives. We provided what medical care we could to at least keep her comfortable.
She died in the night. I'll write about her eventually. She was the last show horse and the one I worked with most, because she was active during and after college for me. She was 25, which is a decent run, as far as these things go. I loved her a whole lot. Shit sucks.
So Tuesday morning, with a storm incoming, I helped my mom use the tractor to drag her out into the field. One of our neighbors has a backhoe, and they've dug graves for us several other times. Mom will be able to get her buried with their help, but moving her into position was a process.
Then I got showered, packed up my luggage, and headed out to get the rental car. Then drove for hours, into a storm. To get to a city I've barely visited and only driven in once very briefly. As the most country of country mice, who is more accustomed to driving on unpaved country lanes than narrow, congested city streets.
It's been two and a half days, and this week is fucking with my head.
So here I sit. With tea.