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mad_andyThank fuck that week is over. Now I just have to handle a weekend trying to move enough stuff out of the downstairs of the house that we can lift the carpet up. Pardon me while I piss myself laughing, would you?
Anyway.
Took the Today's Pilot magazine in to work to show everybody the pictures. What pictures? These pictures...
Spot the nutter.
Anyway. They were suitably horrified and/or impressed, not to mention somewhat startled that I'm not just a kind of splodge shape. To whit; they never realised I had such a noticeable bust. They thought I was sort of an amorphous blob of fat. I then explained the difference a decent bra can make; for reasons that should be obvious, a sport bra is pretty much vital in my line of work!
Oh, and I got several variations on well-bred horror when I told them about taking my top off and getting ogled by Davey and the rest of the band. I don't get it. But then, I never did. I think I'm supposed to become a respectable matron now I'm past 30 and married.
Fuck that, say I.
I'm debating whether to try and get Slay to agree to me having a new tattoo before the Maiden gig. Hmmm. Might be on a loser there. Still, it's my money too.
Found out what the lump in Thoth's neck is; it's a pyelogranuloma.
Nope, I didn't know what that meant either. But the words 'no evidence of neoplasia' made me happy - no funny cancer cells, so he's in the clear for that. Thank goodness.
Anyhoo, turns out that it means that at the site of the abscess the poor sod had last year there has been a reaction to some pus-material left in and/or around the lymph node; the body has walled it off and is trying to heal. That's what the big lump is, a whole mess of what's called granulous tissue - basically, scar tissue. But it's a massive lump and we can either wait and see if it goes away or take it out.
Now, if we wait and see there's always the chance that, as it's such a hyooj lump, that it will die in the middle and, basically, rot. This would be a bad thing. He'd be happy as a sand boy one moment and dead of blood poisoning the next.
However, taking it out is going to be a dicey job; the jugular runs over it, the carotid artery runs under it and behind it lies the main vagal nerve - you know, the one that controls (or rather, transmits all the impulses to and from) all the autonomic nerve functions. Breathing. Heartbeat. Stuff like that.
It's going to be kind of like doing one of those horrid little wooden puzzles with chopsticks.
But. One of the vets is happy to have a crack at it and since the alternative is at least six weeks on antibiotics before we even re-assess, I'm going to go for it. Well. I'm not the one going for it, but you know what I mean. I'll be assisting with the op, so he'll go to sleep in my arms and wake up the same way, all being well. At least if we twang the nerve or break into the carotid the poor lad will be gone between one breath and the next, so he won't suffer...
And if we banjo the jugular, dear Foggy may well get called into play to donate a syringeful of blood!
So. That's tuesday.
In the meantime, we've got to shift six year's worth of junk...
Have a nice weekend!
Anyway.
Took the Today's Pilot magazine in to work to show everybody the pictures. What pictures? These pictures...
Spot the nutter.
Anyway. They were suitably horrified and/or impressed, not to mention somewhat startled that I'm not just a kind of splodge shape. To whit; they never realised I had such a noticeable bust. They thought I was sort of an amorphous blob of fat. I then explained the difference a decent bra can make; for reasons that should be obvious, a sport bra is pretty much vital in my line of work!
Oh, and I got several variations on well-bred horror when I told them about taking my top off and getting ogled by Davey and the rest of the band. I don't get it. But then, I never did. I think I'm supposed to become a respectable matron now I'm past 30 and married.
Fuck that, say I.
I'm debating whether to try and get Slay to agree to me having a new tattoo before the Maiden gig. Hmmm. Might be on a loser there. Still, it's my money too.
Found out what the lump in Thoth's neck is; it's a pyelogranuloma.
Nope, I didn't know what that meant either. But the words 'no evidence of neoplasia' made me happy - no funny cancer cells, so he's in the clear for that. Thank goodness.
Anyhoo, turns out that it means that at the site of the abscess the poor sod had last year there has been a reaction to some pus-material left in and/or around the lymph node; the body has walled it off and is trying to heal. That's what the big lump is, a whole mess of what's called granulous tissue - basically, scar tissue. But it's a massive lump and we can either wait and see if it goes away or take it out.
Now, if we wait and see there's always the chance that, as it's such a hyooj lump, that it will die in the middle and, basically, rot. This would be a bad thing. He'd be happy as a sand boy one moment and dead of blood poisoning the next.
However, taking it out is going to be a dicey job; the jugular runs over it, the carotid artery runs under it and behind it lies the main vagal nerve - you know, the one that controls (or rather, transmits all the impulses to and from) all the autonomic nerve functions. Breathing. Heartbeat. Stuff like that.
It's going to be kind of like doing one of those horrid little wooden puzzles with chopsticks.
But. One of the vets is happy to have a crack at it and since the alternative is at least six weeks on antibiotics before we even re-assess, I'm going to go for it. Well. I'm not the one going for it, but you know what I mean. I'll be assisting with the op, so he'll go to sleep in my arms and wake up the same way, all being well. At least if we twang the nerve or break into the carotid the poor lad will be gone between one breath and the next, so he won't suffer...
And if we banjo the jugular, dear Foggy may well get called into play to donate a syringeful of blood!
So. That's tuesday.
In the meantime, we've got to shift six year's worth of junk...
Have a nice weekend!
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 03:34 pm (UTC)Fuck that, say I.
Seconded. I like my crazy blueheaded screaming obscenities at barriers friend the way she is, thank you very much.
You know, I get the almost same reaction when somebody sees me for he first time with a tight shirt (rare) or shirtless (FAR less rare): *stare* "whoa. You've got some big boobs!". Butch shoulders and rather masculine built body along with large t-shirts sure do their best to hide 'em...;)
Oh, and here's hoping Thoth will be well. He'll sure be.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 03:39 pm (UTC)Those are my end-of-life plans.
supposed to become a respectable matron now I'm past 30 and married.
Blah. What would be the point of living then? I see all these respectable matrons out and about and think how horrid their lives must be. ~runs off to buy inappropriately short and tight shirts before they're all gone for the season~
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 07:10 pm (UTC)(I say -ish- because our family, on the whole, don't make old bones!)
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 05:38 pm (UTC)"I think I'm supposed to become a respectable matron now I'm past 30" Fuck that, say I also. Why should age restrict fun?
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 06:26 pm (UTC)*SNORT* I'm 48 and still waiting for the respectable matron to make an appearance. Lemme tell ya, in my first marriage, to my son's father, I did my best to be the perfect soccer mom. And got horribly confined and depressed. I am so NOT soccer mom material. You gotta be who you are, Andy, or else shit, you're just downright miserable. Now, when the hoi-paloi gets all horrified at a woman my age getting a tattoo, hanging with people decades younger, wearing band t-shirts, lots of hardware on my wrists and fingers, listening to cranked-up Metallica, hanging pics of my boys on the wall at work, writing slash fic... I just grin cheekily. Like The Lars says - it's fun to fuck with people's perceptions.
Besides... my kid says I'm a cool mom and he likes me that way - and that's WAY BETTER than being a soccer mom or a respectable matron.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 06:54 pm (UTC)The day I become matronly I'm flying over there so you can kill me with your bare hands.
Hank
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 07:09 pm (UTC)I shall have the diathermy set up, though.
"I didn't ask for diathermy...?"
"That's right."
"So why...?"
"You are going to be using it though, aren't you?"
"Er?"
*Gives vet The Look*
"Yes, thank you, good idea."
;)
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 09:24 pm (UTC)Fuck that, say I.
Amen to that.. Who wants to be respectable? That's boring...
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 10:13 pm (UTC)Is that you with the blue hair? :D
no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-13 06:27 am (UTC)That's me with Bruce. *Grin*