More on Marley & Me - Feline version

It strikes me that Marley does not necessarily have to be a dog in your life - Marley could also be a hamster, rabbit, horse or even a cat! I live with two cats and they have distinct personalities. Allie, the white female cat is definitely not a Marley. She goes about her business quietly and tries not to be visible - much. She sleeps on the bed, wakes up, stretches and then quietly checks out the rest of the house. She stays as close to walls & furniture (under if possible) as she can so no one (the hyper dog and naughty boy cat) will see her. She might brush up against the leg of a human and give a small meow but that does not mean she wants to be picked up. Just acknowledge her presence.

The other cat in our life is an exact opposite of Allie. Leo wants to be noticed. If we don't notice him, he will do something to attract our attention. At 4 am when we are sleeping, Leo will knock something off the dresser to wake us up. He has taken to sleeping on my feet. But, heaven forbin he would just lay down - No! He has to knead my feet to make a comfortable spot for himself. The Christmas tree was shaking the other day. We do not live in earthquake territory - nope, it was tornadoe Leo trying to climb the middle of the tree.

Leo came to us on a cold winter day - December 17, 2004. We already had a dog and a cat and I had no intention of introducing another animal to our household. My son called me to tell me "A kitten followed me home on the paper route." I instructed him to keep the kitten away from the other animals - just in case he had some foul disease. When I arrived home several hours later, the kitten was sound asleep on my son's lap. "I named her Cleopatra - because she's very demanding," was my son's first words.

"Well, she's not staying!" was my response. I called every shelter in the phone book but there was not room for a tiny kitten anywhere. So, in a moment of weekness I told my son she could stay - until there was room at a shelter. It was too cold to toss the little ball of fur back outside

Monday morning I called the shelters again but the answer was still no room. I called the vet and told them we had a kitten who was not staying but I wanted a well-kitten check up to check for worms or any other disease.

When the vet examined the kitten, she asked us what we named him. "Him???" We thought he was a girl. The vet & my son agreed Cleopatra was not an appropriate name for a little boy. My son named him C. Leo Patrick. My official name for the little 2.8 pounds of fur was (and still is) "Christopher Leonard Patrick You're Not Staying!" But we call him Leo for short

When Leo was four months old, I caught him climbing up the lace curtains. Shortly after that he had his front claws removed. When Leo was six months old, he started showing signs of being a little boy. Shortly after that he had his little nubs chopped off.

It is now four years later. Leo is still living with us. That little ball of fur that "followed" my son home on the paper route (actually my 6'4" son put the kitten in the hood of his sweatshire - that is following, right?) is still living with us. I quit calling the shelters a long time ago. It is a shame because he would make a great pet for someone. In the meantime, he can be our feline version of Marley 'cause at 4 am when things are shoved on the floor, Leo can be the worst cat in the world.

Marley & Me

Several years ago I purchased the book Marley & Me. I couldn't bring myself to read the book because I knew something bad would happen to Marley before the end of the book. I gave the book to my dad. Yes, he read the book but he admits when he got toward the end of the book, he let the book sit for several weeks before he finished reading it.

Many of us of a "Marley" in our lives. For me, I've had three "Marleys". The first one was our dog Duchess. We adopted her when I was in elementary school. She was an English Setter mix and by far the smartest dog I've ever met. Even though we lived on a very busy street, she was never tied up outside. She was shown her boundaries and she stayed within them. Well, except for the path she wore to the Mica's sliding door facing their backyard and then to the Lack's yard. These were the people Duchess visited and checked on everyday. But, she never crossed the street. She was not a mischievious dog like Marley but memories of her flooded back as the movie reached the end - and the end of Marley's life.

The other "Marley" in my life was our dog Palo. Again, Palo did not make trouble like Marley but the memories of Palo's final days were remembered as we saw Marley age. Palo was not a healthy dog and we went through a lot to keep her with us as long as we could. Everytime I hear a thunderstorm, I can't help but hope Palo has some good music to listen to to keep her calm. She feared thunderstorms - but she wasn't destructive like Marley.

The third "Marley" in my life is laying under my feet as I type. When he is hooked to a leash, he is just like Marley - the alpha dog! If (and this never happens) he were let loose outdoors, he would take off like Marley - but Duke would probably not return - he would run and run and run. The Duke rules this house. Although I like to think I'm the alpha dog - he definitely rules. I just picked up some plastic pieces that Duke thought he needed to chew. I'm not sure what the plastic pieces used to be but I'm thankful that's all he chewed. He has never destroyed furniture but our house now has only one room carpeted - because Duke thought he should chew up the carpet.

If you decide to go see Marley & Me, I would recommend a trip out to the bathroom when John takes Marley to the vet the 2nd time. Make sure you stop & refill your pop and popcorn before returning to your seat. That way you won't have to use a half a box of tissues to get through the end of the movie.

Mouse in the House

Today, we put up the Christmas tree. It is possible there was a visitor in the box we store the tree in. Go figure. Anyway, the boys (hubby & son) went out for supper. I didn't feel like going so I am home alone with the dog and two cats. It is nice and quiet until I hear the animals chasing around. One of the animals is growling. Allie, occasionally growls when Duke or Leo are bugging her but they aren't bugging her and upon checking, she isn't the one growling. Hmmm, Duke's not growling either. Leo never growls. But wait, what's in his mouth? Oh, no!!! A mouse. Yes, it's still alive. Yikes, I hate mice. I called hubby's cell phone, they are already seated at the restaurant. Leo drops the mouse while I'm on the phone, Leo catches the mouse. No, don't come home, we will handle this.

There is a bowl of oranges on the table. I should say there was a bowl of oranges on the table. I dumped the oranges on the table and proceed to chase Leo who still has the mouse in his mouth. He leads me to the bathroom where he drops the mouse and quickly captures it again. This time, I'm ready! I corner him by the shower. With the bowl in one hand and the nap of Leo's neck in the other, I shake Leo and order him to drop it. The mouse falls out of his mouth and onto the bath rug. I drop the bowl over the top of the mouse and have him captured.

But, Leo is going crazy, he wants his mouse back. No, he can't have him. I drag the bath mat with the mouse under glass into the laundry room. To be safe, I set a big bucket of cat litter on top of the bowl. Close the laundry room doors.

Now Leo, is pacing back and forth from the bathroom laundry door to the kitchen laundry door. I've checked, the mouse is still under glass. Occasionally Duke & Allie will follow.

I'm proud of Leo for catching the mouse but he needs to understand - mice are dirty, mice are not toys. Give it up. I think I'll give him some catnip. Maybe that will take his mind off it.

Hubby is stopping at the store after dinner. He will pick up some sticky mouse traps. Probably a good thing to have on hand anyway.

Malaria Infected Blood Cells

A thin-film Giemsa stained micrograph of ring-forms, and gametocytes of Plasmodium falciparum. From http://phil.cdc.gov/phil/home.asp

Sick & Tired of Being Sick and Tired

I have not felt well for a long time. I was beginning to feel like a whining hypochondriac! First there was the foot surgery in August and then the foot surgery in October. I've been tired and had occasional bouts of nausea. A few weeks ago I started having lower back pain. The doctor scheduled me for a series of tests to rule out kidney stones. The test results came back with minor problems but definitely not kidney stones. Then, I developed symptoms of a UTI. A routine urinalysis in the doctor's office confirmed a severe bladder infection. While taking the medication for the bladder infection, my nausea changed to occasional vomiting. I was feeling sick & tired one day and and tired but fine the next. Finally, on Monday, November 27, I couldn't suffer anymore. I called the doctor's office again to "complain." She was concerned I was having a reaction to the UTI medication and sent me to the emergency room for tests.

I went to the hospital that is about a mile away from home. When I arrived, I had a temperature of 102.8, my blood pressure was high and I felt rotten. The ER staff drew blood, took urine samples and gave me medicine to bring the fever down and stop the vomiting nausea. The blood work & urine tests came back "normal". Since the medication was working they sent me home - diagnosis: viral infection unknown.

Tuesday morning I woke up feeling tired and achy but no fever and no nausea. I stayed home from work and by the end of the day was feeling pretty good. I planned on going to work Wednesday. But, when Wednesday morning came, I was feeling lousy. By the time my husband came home from work, I was in bed with chills, nausea & had been vomiting. I took my temperature and was shocked to see it was around 105 degrees. He insisted I go back to ER. I did not want to go - I could take Tylenol or Motrin & bring the fever down just as well as the ER team & it would be cheaper. After taking the Motrin, my fever seemed to come down but I had an awful pounding in my head. I thought my blood pressure was probably sky high and decided I should follow advice & be seen at ER. But, I would not go back to the same hospital.

Instead I went to Hackley Hospital. When I checked in, my temperature was 102.7 degrees and my blood pressure wasn't very good either. I informed ER personnel I had been seen at the "other" hospital Monday. They asked me why I didn't return there. My response was they couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I was assured that Hackley Hospital staff would find out what was wrong.

I was poked, prodded, and tests were run - just like on Monday. Then the doctor decided I might have a blood clot (foot surgery was 7 weeks earlier) and wanted to run some more tests. He felt I should be admitted to the hospital so tests could be run.

On the way up to my room, we stopped for a sonogram of my legs - looking for blood clots. After getting settled in my room & taking a sleeping pill, a young man came in my room with a gurney - he was taking me for a sonogram. Hmmmm, was he kidding, I already had a sonogram. Was he trying to kidnap me. Why would anybody want to kidnap sick old me? I was too sick & too tired to care, I scootched over to his gurney and we went for a ride to the 2nd floor for a sonogram of my kidneys.

On the way back to my hospital room, my nurse was standing in the hallway. She seemed pretty excited. She asked me if I had been out of the country. Ok, I'm thinking, have I been gone that long? I went to the 2nd floor for a sonogram. My 2nd thought was I really don't want to talk about my vacation right now. All that came out of my mouth was "Yes". She asked "where?" My response - "Vanuatu.....South Pacific Ocean".

The young man pushed me back to my room & I could hear the nurse relaying my vacation information over the phone. I thought this was strange but didn't give it a 2nd thought. I moved back in my bed and proceeded to go back to sleep.

A short time later, I sensed someone in my room. I opened my eyes to see my admitting doctor standing at the foot of my bed. He was smiling - they found out what was wrong with me. Apparently, down in the lab, the lab techs were looking at my blood work and were very puzzled. They were seeing something they had not seen before. Finally, one of the techs says he knows me and is it possible I picked up something when I was overseas. They started looking and determined I had Malaria. When my admitting doctor called the hospital's infectious disease doctor to tell her they had a "suspected" case of Malaria, the infectious disease doctor's initial response was "at Hackley Hospital? In Michigan? I don't think so. You will have to get that confirmed." The CDC was contacted and they confirmed it - I have Malaria.

There are several different forms of Malaria, some are easier to treat that others. Fortunately, I have the form that is the easiest to treat. Unfortunately, the original dose of medication - which is very strong - can cause some pretty serious side effects. I had the original dose on Thanksgiving day. The following Sunday, I experienced my first side effects. Nothing serious but pretty scary - I'll tell you more about the side effects in another post - another day.

After spending six nights in the hospital, I am home. I'm still tired but for the first time in many months, I can honestly say I feel good. If you are ever sick and visit an emergency room, don't accept a diagnosis of "unknown". If a person is sick, there must be a reason. I feel very lucky somebody knew me and cared enough to dig deep enough to figure out what was wrong with me.

I received excellent care at both hospitals - the difference between them is one cared just enough to cover my symptoms to make me feel better. The other hospital took the time to care and diagnosis what was wrong and make the symptoms go away.