Nothing to say. J is in full time school, it is INTENSE, but she is really enjoying it (and I am enjoying seeing her happy like this!). I do everything else. It is also intense, since full time work, with running the house, making sure we are fed and watered, bills are paid, etc etc etc, is at times overwhelming, when all I want to do is sit down and read Harry Potter. I know this imbalance is temporary, and it's not like J is resting on her laurels either. She is in school M-F, from 8:30-3:30 (ish, depends on the day), and then comes home and does another 3-4 hours of homework. However, she's so organized and on top of things that her weekends remain relatively free, with only 3-4 hours of homework through the weekend. I am intensely proud of her.
My stupid baby hormones have not stopped screaming at me, it does not help with two of my amazing, beautiful besties popping out babies (one is out already, and he is simply stunning and super sweet, the other is still gestating but not for much longer). We have plans after J is done school to do all this other stuff, but I don't think I will be able to wait one.more.damn.second. Negotiations planned for next December.
Life is still plucking away. Our big tom cat, Mustang, was diagnosed with chronic pancreatitis last week. He is 17, has endured far too many medical tests lately, and we have decided to make him palliative, to treat for symptoms and make him comfortable. I have not shared with hardly anyone, because people say terrible things like "why let him suffer, just put him down, he's just a cat". People said terrible things like that to me when I was primarying at work too, and this is just as jarring. He is MY cat, it is OUR choice. He is comfortable, well medicated, with adequate pain control. He still eats (although not a lot), he cuddles, he grooms himself. He is not suffering. We may have weeks to another year with him. We watch him closely for signs that his body is shutting down, that his life is filled with nothing but pain and suffering, and then we will take him in and let him pass peacefully and quietly. We are not interested in sustaining his life, he is old, and he is a CAT, he does not understand, and the quality of his life is more important than quantity. My recent experiences with palliative care prepared me well for these difficult conversations we've had, I advocated for Mustang the way I advocate for my babies; is this test in his best interest? Will it change the course of treatment? What is the value in this? How do we best manage his symptoms? What will happen if he dies at home? What will happen if we decide that he is suffering too greatly?
So, we are embroiled in sadness in our house. J has had Mustang since he was just a kitten. We are also worried what will happen to our other cat, who does not tolerate his absence EVEN FROM THE NEXT CHAIR OVER. Part of me hopes he dies at home so that she will see and perhaps understand, but realistically I know this will not be the case, not with pancreatitis.
Life continues though, I am planning our patio garden and slowly working through deep cleaning the house, which is always in preparation for a tiny human.