I got up early this morning, 5:20 to be exact. You would've been proud. I showered and got ready, made lunches, woke up babies and shoveled the sidewalk. I put Max's collar on and he knew as soon as I'd picked it up and he heard the tags jingle that he was goin' somewhere!
Miss K began getting ready, she knew she was under pressure this morning. I assured her things would be fine, even if they missed the bus, I would be back in time to give them a ride to school. No need to panic. I gave her deadlines...7:00am - finish breakfast, get shoes on, brush teeth, gather back pack; 7:20 - 10 minutes til take off, post up, watch for the bus. Then, I took off.
Bad news. We arrived and they gave me an estimate of $150- $300. Then, the lady came back with a second estimate stating his "simple surgery" would be $300-$500 because he was over 5 years old. You've got to be kidding me! I gasped, told her how outrageous that was and that my husband would flip out! It was true, you would. I didn't raise my voice and I wasn't angry, only in shock. I think she took it a little personal because she began explaining to me that she hadn't been there for a couple days and she'd added a couple things just to make sure this estimate was "in the ballpark". She told me she would talk with the doctor and call me before they started anything. You would've been proud.
As soon as I left and got on the road, I checked the time. It was 8 o'clock on the east coast and Dr. Byrd would be in. He'd be able to give me some advice and tell me if this whole scheme was crazy or not. I gave him a call. He was in surgery, so I ended up leaving a message. I traveled home and made it back before the bus came. I hadn't had any breakfast so I was in a frenzy. It threw my whole morning off.
In the meantime, the kids left for school and I ate a bowl of Fruit Loops while I turned on the TV to watch the news and see how much snow we'd actually gotten. I watched the weather three times and never heard nor saw an amount. I was completely distracted. I gave up. I went about the morning, fumbling and stumbling over normal tasks until the phone rang. It was Dr. Byrd and I was never so glad to hear his voice. I explained the situation and he gave me a couple scenarios and treatment options, the best he could do for an over-the-phone analysis. Bottom line, this procedure seemed a
Dr. B asked how I liked the prairie state and I won't lie, I grumbled. He bragged, telling me it was sunny and 65 was to be the high there today. It just wasn't fair, you being in the land of sun and humidity, Dr. B livin' it up in the big V-A, and me? Stuck in the cornfields surrounded by the dreary snow! That's where! But who said life was fair?
In the meantime, the vet calls back. "Good news", he says. "No surgery! Just 3 more weeks of antibiotics." I'll take it! All is well again. I picked up our happy little camper and he was so excited to see me, all snorty and wiggling. He said hello to the receptionist and a very unhappy kitty. I paid the bill and we made our way to the truck. Yes, I took your truck, just like you said. And, I'd thrown a jacket in the backseat before we left! Two points! I was on an adrenalin rush and so I'd donned a hoodie and jeans with boots. You would've been proud.
We arrived home safely and I fed Mr. Poodley. (He hadn't eaten since yesterday morning - doctor's request.) Once he was finished, I let Daisy out and she checked him over, sniffing and wagging her tail. They were happy to be reunited and he soon zonked out in the kitchen on his bed. So much excitement for one morning! He didn't even move for pictures.