21 October 2025

I knew recovery would be a process, with ups and downs and all, but until last night it's pretty much been all ups.

And then came SHOWER DAY which excited me, and meant taking off the dressings to see the incision and drain ports...and then redressing everything.

Problem is, I chose the wrong materials for this. The gauze pads were not quite right, the tape abysmal, and by the time, and it had to be done twice, which included a night time trip to the store by Spouse Thingy to get the right things. n hour or so before bed, I was all padded and taped up, and it was decided that there would be no shower today; leave those suckers alone so the surgeon (or his nurse or assistant) can deal with it tomorrow.

Along with this, the last two days have been marathon peeing. I should have expected this, especially after seeing how huge my belly was over the last couple days, but I didn't. I just whined about it. Part of me worried my DDAVP was no loner working, and when I hit visit 22 to the bathroom, I was sure of it. I had two days of having to get up and pee every 15-20 minutes, and that honestly sucks.

It also means that today, I am very, very tired. I wanted to go grocery shopping, but was not given the chance. Spouse Thingy made a list and went without me. 

He also suggested I drink the Gatorade the doc sent home with me, and he'd pick up more while out.

So today is a quiet day. I might take a nap, but am really hoping that by 3-4 this afternoon I'll perk up and can make him take me out for an ice cream cone.

Still, everything is going really well. Not much pain at all, just some itching under the tape. Drains come out tomorrow, which will help (and I won't have to be so protective of Ducky tying to play with the tubes.) I still feel bad for him...he wants to come in the room at night and cuddle so badly. I got up in the middle of the night to pee yet again, and he was curled up on a hamper just outside the door. And then cried when I wouldn't let him in.

It should be noted that CJ and Ozzy don't give a krap lol. 

20 October 2025

 Just wanted to get it on record: I survived, I am fine, and all is well. I didn't feel as nervous as I expected, and after...well, I am not as laid up as I presumed I'd be. I have limitations, like no lifting more than 5 pounds, no driving, no bikes, but I also have very, very little pain. The drain sites feel like a bruise and my upper chest is a weird mix of itchy and numb, but nothing I'd quantify as pain.

Day after, I ventured outside to walk around the court a couple times. I felt like I could do more, but was informed I was not, in fact, doing that, and was going back inside to rest.

If I wanted to walk more, there was always up and down the hallway.

Fine.

Day two, Spouse Thingy drove me the quarter mile to a little park around the corner, where we lapped it three times. I think that comes out to a bit over half a mile, which was enough.

Yesterday we wandered the neighborhood, looking for shade, and why the FORK is it hot and sunny during the back half of October? Inside there were video games and TV, so we cut it at half a mile again and went home where the cold drinks live.

Today...Costco. We didn't really need anything but the food court has some killer ice cream, so we walked around there with the idea that I'd get it on the way out.

You know what Costco is on a Monday around noon?

BUSY, that's what.

I did not get my ice cream there, but he did take me to Wendy's for a Frosty, which was just about as good.

You know it's an uneventful recovery when all I really did was walk a bit every day. I honestly thought I would have a couple of weeks where I did nothing but whine, scarf down all the Norco they gave me, and eat junk food. But I feel like I could do a hell of a lot more, advisable or not. 

Today was shower day (thank god) and I got to see my chest. It's not too bad. Kinda concave on the left side, which will either resolve or not, I don't care. The incision looks good and once I can start scar care, I can hopefully get it to nearly invisible (but again, if not, oh well. Aesthetics were not the goal here.) I'm just happy that as far as major surgery goes, this has basically been a cakewalk.

(That saying makes no sense to me, as I have lost every cakewalk I've participated in.) 

The hard part?

This guy.

Ducky loves to cuddle at night, usually by kneading his paws into my throat while he lays by my head (on my right side, he insists.) But he also likes to stand on my chest and wiggle around while he finds the right spot, which just seems like a bad idea.

I did give him a chance on day 2, hoping he would be all right with me being only on my back, while not being allowed on the chest. He was all right for about 3 minutes, when he sat up and stared at me, and placed on paw right where he shouldn't.

I felt like a monster putting him out of the room and closing the door.

And we won't tell anyone I picked his 10 pound little self up to do this.

I'm not sure how much longer he'll be barred from sleeping with me. Day after tomorrow I get the drains pulled, and I'm not sure what's next. I think there will still be another week of sleeping on my back, but I'm not sure about letting him in. Even when I sleep on my side, I sometimes roll onto my back and he'll notice if I do.

So if you feel bad for anyone in all this, feel bad for Ducky.

Drains on Wednesday, I think a checkup at one month, and at 6 weeks I can get back on the bike, join a gym, anything I want. Maybe get out of Spouse Thingy's hair, because by then he will surely deserve it.

11 October 2025

 Oddz N Endz N Questions #864,245,111

Hey, what happened to the little Thumper picture in the sidebar with the blog title? I really liked it and miss it.

Disney happened, that's what. They don't like it when people use their IP. And they are very persistent in getting people to remove those images...even ones that were buried deep in old, old posts. I just never have figured out something to replace it with. 

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Can we ask you questions about your surgery? I don't want to pry and I know it's private, but I admit to curiosity and have never known someone to go through a mastectomy before. I didn't know it was an option for pain, and I have a lot of pain, so yeah, I have questions.

You can ask me anything; anyone can. I'll ignore questions that cross the line (like how will this affect sex? Will you do things differently? My guys, you don't need to know what we do) but I am open to sharing information. There's a lot of info out there regarding reductions (and if you're thinking of one, /r/Reduction on Reddit is a fantastic place to research and ask questions. It's where I started, when I was considering "just" a reduction. Be aware, you will see lots of boobs on there. And one day, even mine, I think.

Why? Because sharing info, even what it looks like post surgery, is how others learn and make informed opinions about the whole thing. I benefited from other people sharing, so I'll share in return.

Common questions so far:

Are you going flat or getting reconstruction?

Flat. The whole point is to remove pain, and movement = pain. I don't need boobs anymore; I certainly don't feel like I'll be less of a woman for it, but I do feel like I'll benefit immensely from being flat. And no more bras, ever! 

I hope this is not his tool kit...

Is this like trans top surgery?

Not quite. In top surgery some breast tissue is left behind--men have breasts, after all. All of my breast tissue will be removed, though my scars might resemble top surgery. I'm not sure if I'll have two incisions or one long one. Mike mused that it didn't matter because no one else beside him will see, but who knows? I might get brave and go topless now and then ;)

How did you get insurance to pay? I want something similar but I'm not big enough according to them.

I didn't. Apparently 40+ years of pain is not enough for this to be "medically necessary." It worked out better for me, though, I think. The surgeon I'm going to does not take insurance (private clinic) and requires payment before the surgery happens (financing available lol.) No, this is not alarming; a lot of private practices just don't want the insurance headache anymore and offer reduced pricing because of it.

Yes, it's spendy. No, we still are not rich. But we did have this much available, and it's kind of an investment in my future. If I can live another 20 years, pain free (other than my back) it will be totally worth it.

And funny enough, a simple bilateral mastectomy is cheaper than a reduction. By nearly 5 grand.

Will there be photos? Like before and after?

Are you asking to see my boobs while I still have them? LOL maybe. There actually are some before photos on the surgeons website, but hidden behind a password. If they make it to his main site, I might tell ya. If there are picture taken during the surgery (and I've given permission for that and video) it might wind up on the center's IG. 

How long is the recovery?

Not 100% sure. He did say that by six weeks I could return to normal activities, including working out. I've been told that (in a reduction, at least) days 2 and 3 are the worst, followed by week 2. After that, I'll probably feel fine but I'll still have restrictions...like working out and lifting anything heavier than 5-10 pounds. And that's the sucky part. I'll want to pick Amelia up, but she is a bit more than 5-10 pounds. Mike will lift her to my lap when she's here (or we're there) and I ask him to. There will be a barrier between us (mastectomy pillow) so I'm unsure how it will really work out.

How long with you be in the hospital?

Not at all. This is a surgical center and it's outpatient surgery (for real! Times have changed.) I go in in the morning and will be home by evening. It's an hour drive and we'll probably wind up in going-home traffic, so that part will suck. I'll have to hang around for a couple hours after, but by the end of the day they'll kick my asterisk out and I'll be free.

Bra burning party?

Oh man, I would love to. I'll probably have to settle for just tossing them all out and celebrating with a drink. After I can drink again.

I had planned gall bladder surgery last year and was told no weed before. You once mentioned using it for sleep. Can you still?

My surgeon never said anything about it, but everything I've read says to stop 72 hours beforehand. So I won't sleep much for a couple of nights. Ngl, I am not looking forward to that part. 

What about kitty snuggles???

I hate it, but the bedroom door will be closed initially, and Ducky especially will have to be kept away from my chest. He's a cuddle bug at night so he'll be most affected. Not sure how it'll work out, but we'll figure it out along the way.

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Where is the next Wick book? I miss them!

I have started and started over so many times...but I *am* working on something. It's in my head, from start to finish, but since Mike retired I have found way too many other things to do. 

We're going to space, I can tell you that much.

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My mind is single track these days, just counting off days as if it were Christmas and I were an 8 year old excited for Santa. I imagine by 2026, I'll have other things to talk about. Probably bikes ;) 

 

1 October 2025

:::Yet again, I blow the dust off the blog:::

 

It’s October, so pink ribbons are going to be popping out everywhere, friends are walking a couple of different breast cancer walks to raise money for research, and other friends are currently undergoing treatment for varying stages of the disease.

Normally this it the time of year I dye my hair pink and either engage in some fundraising myself, or I cheer friends on while rocking that pink. I love my pink hair, even if it gets me some odd looks from strangers…I mean, I get it, someone my age with hair that bright, but c’mon. It’s just hair.

I’m not dyeing this year, though.

Now, honestly, I would normally tell the people in my immediate life in person (or text, because I just don’t do calls anymore. Saves us both a lot of WUT?? From me. But I started making a list of all the people who needed to know, and it got so long that I finally mumbled “phk it” to myself and decided to just mass-tell everyone, even total strangers who might stumble across my blog.

Don’t get too excited…it’s not OMG HUGE NEWS. It’s not even omg medium news. It’s just kinda =meh= you should know in case something happens.

Oh man, remember Stumble Upon? When you could hop from one new blog to the next, making sweet discoveries, and if you were lucky, a friend or two? That was awesome. And I miss it. But I digress.

Ok, I could find a lot of other things to annoy you with, but I’ll start with some history. Some of you know my history, most of you don’t. But this particular slice of history begins over 40 years ago, when the Boy was a baby—or maybe a toddler, hard to pin down now—and it has not let up until now.

Pain.

Lots of pain.

No, not the pain I get from having a bad back. Not even the pain from Fibro or arthritis. It has nothing to do with brain tumors and the mess that left me with.

Nope. It’s about boobs.

Mine hurt.

Mine have hurt for over 40 years, and despite a myriad of things a bunch of different doctors have tried, that pain has never really let up. It waxes and wanes, but does not go away.

I’ve had docs that took it seriously and honestly tried to find a cause and treatment, docs who dismissively waved their hands with a common “lose weight,” and one doc that decided all I needed was to stop eating chocolate. I assumed she meant caffeine on general, but at that point I hadn’t had any for about 2 years. Still…stop eating chocolate.

Well now. OK.

The last time I sought help, the doc I saw listened, paid attention to the history of treatments that had been attempted, and sorrowfully told me he was pretty sure it was all hormonal, and would resolve with menopause.

I was in my 30s then…looking down a very long tunnel of misery.

At some point, I stopped bringing it up to doctors, because it felt like there was no point. I waited for menopause, and…nothing. I’m many years into it, and they still hurt. It’s affecting the things I do in daily life, and the things I do for fun. I’ve given up so many activities, and was wrestling with the idea that cycling would be one of them. I’ve been slowing down, a lot, mainly because I cannot generate any power with them moving back and forth.

I tried multiple sports bras to no avail.

I’ve started slouching horribly, and now have upper back and neck pain.

Then it hit me (I’m not sure why) that maybe a reduction would at least help a little. With less material moving around, perhaps there would be less pain.

So I got a consult from our doc, and we drove an hour away to a surgeon who seemed promising.

He listened. He read the long “this is why” paper I brought with me. He examined me, determined I have very dense breast tissue, and said “Based on this, I think you would benefit more from a bilateral mastectomy.”

There was no bullshitting around about hormones, or “yeah maybe a TINY bit off the top.” His take seems to be that without the breast tissue, there’s a better chance that this will work. Not just a reduction, not even a radical reduction, but removal of the whole shebang.

And while I spoke with the surgeon, the Spouse Thingy piped up, “I just want to be able to really hug her again.”

So…October 16^th at a time yet to be determined, I am happily undergoing a simple bilateral mastectomy.

To make it clear: I AM NOT ILL, I DO NOT HAVE CANCER. Just tons of booby pain that will (fingers crossed) go away after I’ve fully recovered from surgery.

Spouse Thingy is prepared to help with the recovery. Michelle is poised to visit every now and then, even if just to sit and watch TV together. I won’t be able to lift my granddaughter for a while, but she can be placed in my lap after the first weeks or so and I can still feed her and cuddle her, and not move an inch if she falls asleep.

At about 6 weeks, I can start working out again. I’ll be able to get back on the bike, join a gym so I can swim again, we can speed-walk if we want (and if my back cooperates…this sadly will not help with the clusterfark that is my lower back.)

Two weeks, 1 day, and I’ll be boobless.

Guys, I am so excited about this I can’t even begin to express it.

 

20 May 2025

 

This little chit...

If there was ever an example of feline ADHD, I'm pretty sure it's him. He starts his day zooming around the house as if his asterisk was on fire, he naps, goes at it again, naps, and then ends the day zooming like a little freak.

You know, we adopted him thinking he would be a playmate to CJ, who wanted to play with Ozzy who was less than thrilled by that. But CJ is actually afraid of Ducky and wants nothing to do with him. So when Ducky tries to engage--multiple times a day--CJ runs.

Ducky thinks he's playing; CJ just wants him to stop.

Granted, CJ could end it by turning on him and paw-slapping him into submission, teaching him who the Big Kitty is, but CJ doesn't have a mean bone in his body so he simply won't.

I have high hopes that the day will come when Ducky realizes he's 1) not truly feral and 2) a cat, and the extreme zoomies will wane, but I'm also not holding my breath. 

Working in his favor: he's adorable, he squeaks, and he loves us like crazy. He answers to his name and if he understands, he does what's asked of him (unless he's having a moment...like chasing after CJ.) He's a champion dishwasher-loading snoopervisor, and make sure that if an ice cube drops from the freezer that it's knocked about until it melts, washing a small section of the floor.

He also loves to sleep with me...which means that CJ, who used to do that, refuses to get on the bed.) I gotta admit, there's nothing like a soft, warm kitty cuddling close at 4 a.m. 

Unless they drool.

Ducky is a prodigious drooler; worse, he can hold it in his mouth. So he does, and every night he jumps on the bed, gets some skritches on his little head, rubs his cheek on mine...and then lets it all fly. 

Right into my mouth.

I started covering my mouth with a few fingers, but he still tries. When that fails, he dribbles it out, and then rubs his cheek all over mine.

It's like having someone run a cold, wet string mop across your face, occasionally stopping to shove their nose up yours.

And yes, he has shoved it up there and then blown snot out his nose into mine.

You think you'll never pick your nose? Trust me, when a cat huffs a wad of kitty snot into your nostril, you will. Anything to get that out.

And like all cats, he loves to knead his little paws often as hard as he can. 

On my throat.

While he drools all over my chin and chest.

 No, I have not locked him out of the room at night. He is learning to be less obsessive about my mouth and nose, and most of the time now he only tries for a bit before settling into crushing my windpipe. When he's done with that, he curls up by my head and goes to sleep for a few hours. Sometimes he starts all over again at 4 am, but lately he waits until the sun is coming up and I've actually slept for 6 hours.

Ducky is a handful, no doubt. And like CJ and Ozzy, he's a thief. They steal socks, he steals paper cups out of the bathroom.  

He's learning to play fetch, which is adorable...maybe not at 3 in the morning when he most wants to, but it's still freaking cute to hear him squeaking when he brings his springy toy to me.

It's not quite as cute when he whaps my face for coughing, but I get it. I'm annoyed, too, and am ready to feel human again (am much, much better, just really tired with a tiny bit of a cough now.)

But, yeah...here's to hoping he chills tf out, because we're all getting tired just watching him. 

And if I were ever tempted to start another cat blog, he would probably have to be the main subject. Ducky Did It, as told by CJ and Ozzy. I'm pretty sure they have a lot to say about him.

14 May 2025

WHERE BE THE ANNUAL BIRTHDAY BEER PIC FROM THE SPOUSE THINGY? DID YOU NOT BUY HIM ONE? - IT MAKES ME LAUGH - PLZ 2 RESPOND - HARTZ AND CHIT - S.DUNN.IT.AGAIN*

Last year's birthday beer

There is no birthday beer photo for the Spouse Thingy, because we have not yet been able to have his birthday dinner. He woke up on the 27th with a horrible cough and congestion, was exhausted, and sneezing like a freak, so we decided to put it off "for a few days."

A few days (we thought maybe 3 or 4) turned into over a week, and by then I'd caught it. So here we are over 2 weeks later and I am just now starting to feel ok, though I've got a gross sounding cough still but I doubt I'm communicable anymore.

That also means we have not seen the kids in over 3 weeks. That might be the worst part.

The good thing, though, is that I was summoned for jury duty for today and tomorrow, but was placed on call for today, and as of 5:30 I'm dismissed for tomorrow. I was not looking forward to coughing my way through the whole process and then being told Hey! We've got your asterisk for 3 weeks and you're gonna be held hostage in a hotel at night after having been shown gross murder pix all day long.

The worst part for me? I have not been able to ride my spiffy new bike and am now waaaaay behind a 300 mile charity ride for May. I'll get all 300 done, but I'm going to have to do some in June. 

Usually when I'm sick I drop a few pounds. This time? After he started feeling better, the Spouse Thingy started taking care of meals...and desserts. He made a cake (after I'd made his birthday cake; he did get that much) and then some brownies. So I am now 1.1 pounds heavier but, eh, I'll take that off when I feel better.

Maybe.

I like cake. Maybe I'll make another.

 

*Sharon Dunnigan, who thinks she's oh so clever. I mean, yeah, she's funny as hell sometimes, but let's not encourage her ;)

 

29 April 2025

 My quarterly Oh-I-am-going-to-blog-more post

My intentions are good. I typically have a dozen things spinning in my head that I intend to write about, but they're all kinda stuck in my head. I'm getting really good at telling myself that no one wants to read that; between imposter syndrome and executive dysfunction, I'm not getting a whole lot done. But that doesn't mean things haven't been awesome around here.

I mean, how awesome is she?

This is Amelia Belle, born mid-February, and she is amazing.

Look at that smile!

She took her own sweet time getting here, refusing to be born for three days while Mom and Dad waited in the hospital. All of the grandparents came and went, waiting sometimes, leaving to give them privacy in others, until the day we were sure she was going to be evicted from her nice, warm residence.

It's incredible how much she's grown every time we see her; she started at at the exact same weight as her daddy, long like both her parents, and she's already grown a couple inches and gained a few pounds.

She is the absolute light in all our lives, but man...her parents are like they won the lottery. And I'm not sure I've ever seen my son light up the way he does when he's holding her, speaking to her softly.

This is going to be one spoiled little girl...though long before she was born the Boy informed us that when he had kids there would be limits. We'll see if those get enforced.

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And this little chit...

Ozzy and CJ still do not like him. I had really hoped that CJ at least would warm up to him and start playing with him, but Ducky is such a little crackhead. His idea of playing is to leap on top of the others, or to pester them endlessly, and he hasn't grasped that teeth and claws are not appreciated.

Ozzy hisses and growls when he's even remotely near, but that doesn't stop him.

CJ is a bit afraid of him, probably because Ducky worships CJ and, when he's not imitating everything CJ does, has chosen him for his best stealthy attacks.

At this point I'm not even hoping for friendship with these 3. I'll settle for peaceful co-existence.

Ducky is 6 months old. So maybe in another 6 months...

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I still have not sold any of the bikes cluttering the garage, but I did go ahead and order the dream bike.

Yep, I wanted to avoid tariffs, which would have put it well out of my reach.

It's also waaaay more bike than I will ever need, and is probably stupid choice for the kind of riding I do, but with this color scheme it's the one I really, really wanted. 

If you're local and kinda want an e-bike, hit me up. I have a few that I need to get rid of.

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This time I mean it. Really. I swear. LOL

1 February 2025

 Oddz-N-Endz #89.30987637645

This is the first time CJ has plopped down on my computer. Ozzy has walked across it several times and tried to curl up on it before, but CJ will crawl into my lap and not on the computer.

He is most definitely Good Boy CJ.

His Good Boy patience has been sorely tested lately, though, and he's been kinda sad.

Apparently that hyperactive little furball was not expected to stick around, and when it was clear we weren't going to slap stamps on his head and send him to the next person, CJ developed a nice case of the blahs.

Did he get in trouble?

Hell no. 

I resigned myself to not working for a while and crossed my fingers in the hope that he didn't delete my manuscript altogether (he did not), and gave him head rubs while he fell asleep. His life has been hard enough without being told no when all he wants is a little attention and a place where Ducky probably won't find him.

The sucky part is that a large impetus in getting Ducky was to give CJ a playmate, since Ozzy sleeps so much more. I never would have guessed that my brave boy would be afraid of a 3 pound kitten, and would run run him at every opportunity.

Ozzy will slap the krap out of Ducky (who thinks she's playing) but being the Good Boy, CJ doesn't unless he's pushed to. We don't get in the middle of it because no one is using claws and no one is getting hurt, but I feel bad for CJ. 

Progress is being made; he'll go up to Ducky and touch noses, which works if Ducky stays still. But 4 month old kittens do not stay still and all they want is to play with the big kitty, and he wishes CJ would chase him back.

That'll come, eventually. But for now I feel bad for him, and give him all the attention he'll allow...which isn't a whole lot right now. But I'll take what I can get.

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In the 3 weeks he's been here, Ducky has gained almost 1.5 pounds, so he's caught up to where he should be at this age. 

He still has chronic diarrhea, though, and his next vet appointment isn't until the 18th, so I imagine Monday morning Mike will call to see what else we can do.

Thing is, Ducky is super active, he eats well, drinks water as expected, and you'd never know there was anything wrong if not for the horrendously awful smelling runs.  

Little dude has no sense of personal space, either.

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With spring coming, I figured this was a good time to start selling a few bikes (to make room for the eventual dream bike, of course.) So of course the day after I got one ready, the skies opened and it began to rain...and will rain for the rest of the week.

One of these days I'll get them sold.

I'll miss them, but I think I want that dream bike more than I would miss them. And to be honest, one of them I'll mostly miss because it's purple.

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And my WTF moment of the weekend: an online acquaintance had words to say because I failed to donate to their fundraiser, and pointed out that I am ALWAYS fundraising for something, so I should turn around and donate to others.

Well...I do. But I have to KNOW about it before I can donate anything, and that was the first I'd heard about it. And I could have still donated, if not for being told "you guys are rich, so I expect something good."

First of all...no, we are not. My bank account is unimpressive.

Pile onto that the Spouse Thingy retired in December, so going forward our income is slashed in half. I'll still donate to my friends' fundraising efforts when I know about them (unless you're raising for political reasons, and then I'll nope out of it, especially if the funds go to one particular megalomaniac.) But I might not be able to give as much as I have in the past. 

Hell, we have a grandbaby on the way, due any day, and we're going to want to spoil her most of all.

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 I want ice cream.

21 January 2025

 These two are not happy, and have not been since the 9th. Why?

Because of this guy:

His name is Ducky, and they do not like him.

Not yet. But they will. Or at least CJ will; Ozzy may never come around, but I'll settle for her not hissing at him every time he's within 5 feet. CJ is not thrilled, but he'll get nose-to-nose with Ducky and not growl, and he'll hang out in the same room just to watch the little guy play. Granted, there have been a few times that CJ has been up a bit higher and reached down to swipe at him, but never with claws and never in a way that made me worry.

This is good, because 75% of the reason that we decided to adopt a kitten was to give CJ someone to play with. Ozzy sleeps a lot more than he does, and when she's awake she's not often interested in chasing around the house the way he wants to.

(And yes, we realize that Ducky might turn out to be just like Ozzy, but it was a chance worth taking.)

Ducky seems to have had a fairly rough start in life. According to the paperwork, when the shelter did intake on him early November, he was one month old but only .52 pounds. He's had digestive issues since then (but they ran a lot of test, all negative...and we had our vet repeat most of them) and is gassy af, but extremely active, eats like a horse and drinks well, and is an affectionate and happy little guy. 

When I picked him up post-neutering on the 9th, he weighed in at a whopping 2.98 pounds and was 14 weeks old.

Like we did with Ozzy and CJ, he hung out in the spare room for the first couple of days. Mostly to decompress, partly to give all the cats time to sniff each other and get used to new smells. The door remained open, despite common sense.

Yes, we know it's usually "better" to keep everyone separated for a week, but my gut said that would not work with Ozzy and CJ. And hell, we did it for Max and Buddah and we all know how that turned out.

After a few visits to the litter box, we were aware that his tummy problems were not solved; the poor guy was shooting out super soft toothpaste from his back end, and it was odoriferous enough to not only concern us, but drive us from the room.

Spouse Thingy called the vet two days later; he took them a stool sample and yesterday he had his first stabby person appointment.

The sample was fine; it repeated several tests the shelter ran, and there were no signs of worms or parasites, nor giardia. So now he's on a prebiotic mixed with something else to help calm his gut down (vet thinks he just as poor gut flora) so fingers crossed it helps.

The big thing, though, was his weight. Yesterday marked day 11 with us, and he'd gone from 2.98 to 3.72 pounds.

Today I realized that while he kinda stinks still, he's not as flatulent and the odor doesn't linger as long when he bombs the litter box. 

He also has run of the house during the day (except for bedrooms...that's mostly to give Ozzy a quiet place when she needs one, and to keep from overwhelming him) and he's allowed out of the catio if he wants. 

Oh, and before someone mentions it...no, we did not intentionally get cats that look like Max and Buddah. It just kinda worked out that way. I was actually hoping to find an orange kitten, but Ducky was there, this little black bundle of trembling kitten, and I had the thought that he would be overlooked in the shelter if we didn't adopt him.

So of course, when I went to pick him up the next day, there was an orange kitten.

I was not the least bit upset by that.

Ducky was meant to be ours.

4 January 2025

 :::blows dust off the blog again:::

I swear, I never intend to not write something, but I sit down and nothing comes out. My brain has been pulling me in 42 different directions lately--for no good reason. And it's not just the blog; I'm only halfway through a book I began writing a year ago, which is super slow for me. Still, I'm having a blast with it, I know where the story is going, and I'll get it done sooner or later.

In the meantime, I'm trying to get into a shape that is less...round. And to accomplish this, I ordered a new-to-me kind of indoor cycling, and have joined Zwift in the hopes that the increased difficulty level (I live in a flat city; this sucker has hills) will help a bit more.

This is the Zwift Ride mounted on a Wahoo Kickr Core, with an iPad (already had that) to access the Zwift app. I could have mounted a bike to the trainer and played that way, but I really didn't want to have to take off the back tire, get the frame set on the trainer, then do everything in reverse when I want to take the bike outside.

Yes, I am that lazy.

This thing is kicking my ass. Like I said, I live where it's flat and I don't have to struggle too much when I ride. But the first day I had this, just a couple minutes into it, I hit a baby hill and holy fark I could barely pedal. I used all my weight on the pedals and my little avatar would not budge. I tried so hard I nearly barfed all over everything, and after 20 minutes or so cried Uncle.

That was 3 weeks ago. Now I can make my avatar move, and sometimes even getting up to 20-22 mph, but the hills are my bane. And I'm using the easy routes. Yesterday I zoomed up a hill at a grand 3 mph (you read that right...THREE. Just three) but I made the pedals go round and round and eventually got to the top of this very-much-a-baby-hill.

We won't discuss the riders who blew past me doing 25 mph. On a hill. 

It's just difficult enough that I added a decal to the frame:

I think I've invented a few new swear words while riding on Zwift.

One day I will conquer the Alpe du Zwift (think BIG HONKIN' MOUNTAIN.) I might die at the top, but at least I'll go out on a major win.

More importantly, one day I'll be in shape. I am determined this time around. A year from now I want to be at my goal weight, be close to having the ability to hit those hills at a speed other than slow, and not be a pre-diabetic with high cholesterol.