I had a friend who used to describe things as "bat-shit crazy." (Where does that term come from?) But, really, how could I possibly resist using that as a title?
Thankfully, there have been no more bats Chez Gwinne (or, at least no bats in the upstairs of my house or dead on my floor). Rabies shot #2 was super easy, and I actually had to pry LG away from the TV show she was watching to leave the hospital. The nurses plied her with juice and potato chips. I thought she might move in. Two down, two to go.
Getting cats to the vet also turned out to be rather easy. IVF Kitten is still stupid enough that he walks right into his carrier, and Big Cat (who is actually now the smaller of the two) was corralled with LG's assistance (hooray for strong 8-year-olds!)
But when you add up the number of hours spent at various doctors (feline and human) and unproductive hours due to sleeplessness, well, this bat affair cost me two whole work days last week. Which really, really sucks. So I keep reminding myself that it's summer and I don't actually get, you know, paid over the summer, so whatever I accomplish is already a bonus. (Oh, yes, I hear you fellow academic types laughing!) I do really need to get this book written...
In other news, and I can't believe I'm burying it like this...I stalked Dr. G's local office today (well, okay, not stalked, I knew she would be there from her staff, and I did need to turn in those long term storage forms anyway). And now my baby smells like her perfume. (I also realized he was wearing her lipstick in the parking lot of the grocery store.) How fucking weird is that?
I'm glad I went. We had a nice, albeit very brief, chat. And I've got a picture of her holding the little boy. Which is the best souvenir I could have gotten from my travels down infertility lane, other than, you know, THE BABY.
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