Eugie · Foster's · Self-Indulgent · Musings

So the results from the vet came back, and Hobkin has a staph infection, apparently a methicillin-resistant one. He gets another course of antibiotics. Poor lil guy! But it's a relief having a definite diagnosis and simple treatment.

However, as one skunk-related worry resolves, another rears up. The housing crisis and economic recession caused Hobkin's godmother to lose her house. She'd been unemployed for a while, and with the job market being what it is, she ended up exhausting her savings and then having to default on her mortgage. She declared bankruptcy, and she and her houseful of skunks relocated out-of-state.

We're devastated. I hope she manages to get back on her feet soon. Really, really hope she does. And now Hobkin doesn't have a place to go when we're out of town. His godmother was wonderful. We completely trusted her to look after him, had total peace of mind boarding Hobkin with her, secure that she was both capable of and would look after him with the same care and attentiveness that we would.

I don't know what we're going to do next month for Christmas when we go to visit fosteronfilm's folks. We can't take Hobkin with us because skunks are illegal to own as pets in Illinois, and we simply can't board him at our vet's. It would be far too stressful. We're considering getting a professional pet sitter, but even if we can find one who'll sit a skunk, I very much doubt they'd have any experience caring for one. And even if they came by four times a day (which is how often Hobkin's meals are), Hobkin would be alone for huge chunks of time. He's used to having someone with him essentially 24/7, not to mention sleeping with me at night. I think he'll be sad and lonely being alone for so long. I would be.

Don't know what to do. Wah!

Just got back from another vet appointment. The follow-up urinalysis from last week's visit showed there was still blood so we brought Hobkin back for more tests. Today's results: x-ray was clean (no kidney stones, whew), waiting on the urine culture results. And we're $340 poorer. Sigh.

But I'm glad we could confirm that Hobkin doesn't have stones. And he was really well behaved. Although obviously anxious. Poor lil guy.

Spent the last several weeks working on a website commission. Paying work comes first and all. But it's almost at wrap-up and launch.

Time to break out The Stupid Novel again, I think. I just want to finish the damn thing before 2010!

In other news, Slate.com did an article on skunks with some excellent links, including to this BBC video on YouTube:



And I have the urge to write another skunk story.

Back from a four-day weekend with less to show for it than I would've liked.

Went to check out elemess's new house on Saturday and worked on a website commission, but otherwise the last four days were decidedly unproductive.

Results came back from the vet's and they found white blood cells but no bacteria from Hobkin's urine sample. The lil guy is on Amoxycillan—which when given with a dollop of whipped cream is, thankfully, a nummy treat—and is on the mend. I think we caught his UTI much earlier this time around than the one last February. He never really got sick this time, just out of sorts. Wish I knew what was causing these, though.

He is also a very silly beastie. When he sleeps with me, sometimes his fangs puncture the blanket where he's resting his head. His fangs are quite pointy; they're long and protrude from his mouth, so when he lays his head flat, they dig into whatever surface he's resting on (which I experience first-hand when he uses me as a pillow). Last night, they pierced the blanket (again) but in his half-asleep state, he thought the blanket had trapped him.

I woke up to a flailing fuzzy animal at my side, pawing at the blanket attached to his tooth. Bemused, I tugged the blanket off his fang, freeing him from the scary blanket-monster. Was Hobkin grateful? Of course not. He huffed at me and trundled off as though it were my fault.

I tell myself he probably felt embarrassed.

On my day off, taking Hobkin to the vet. Think he has another UTI. fosteronfilm has been fighting minor flu-like symptoms all week. And I've been achy and generally feeling blah. Seems like everyone in the house is under the weather. Sigh.

My day off: writing/working downstairs on the couch because after lunch, Hobkin insisted I be his pillow. I'm pinned by an 8lb fuzzy animal. Oh well. He's a decent mousepad.

Got awakened at 2:30AM by Hobkin grousing "lil help already!" while trying to climb up beside me. Seems the hubby moved the doggie steps...

Hobkin is officially blowing his coat. The Furminator helps tons (thank you aimeempayne!), but there are still tufts of undercoat fuzz drifting throughout the house. Wonder if the vacuum cleaner will survive.

Am feeling pampered. Hubby is baking brownies for dessert while Hobkin curls up in my lap.

Taking advantage of a minor lull in bill editing at the capitol to post this.

It's now been two weeks since Hobkin's emergency vet visit, and he's got one more day of amoxicillin to go. He seems to have fully recovered from his UTI (thank all the deities who watch over fuzzy beasties) and is in downright frisky spirits.

Skunks, or at least Hobkin, display a pretty radical personality shift between spring and winter. In winter he's fat, lazy, and generally laid back. In spring, he becomes frolicsome and downright attitudinous. And apparently, it's now spring.

On Sunday, I'm reaching down to pet the deceptively mild-mannered plush critter curled up beside me, and he decided it was an invitation to wrestle. He latched all four paws around my forearm, grabbed my index finger with his teeth, and rolled (think crocodile ambushing a deer).

Now, Hobkin knows better than to bite me, but he considers it fair play to grab my forefinger right between his two top canines (which, 'cause my hands are small, is a perfect fit) where there's a little ridge of front teeth. Not sharp enough to cause damage or break the skin even if he presses down, but enough to make me go "Ow, no bite! Leggo, no bite!" while he drags me about by one finger and gleefully assures me that he's not biting.

And, once again, 8 lb fuzzy animal wins over stupid human. Yes, I think it's safe to say that Hobkin's all better.

   

Writing Stuff

During the times when I wasn't losing at wrestling matches against the fuzzwit, the weekend was spent editing and burning the limited edition audio MP3 CD of Returning My Sister's Face and getting the first shipment of autographed books mail-ready (which book Amazon is offering at a juicy discounted price of $21.55 right now). I'll be sending out email notices shortly to let folks know to expect them. I anticipate the second batch will be going out later this week. Thanks to everyone who ordered during the launch party!

fosteronfilm got a urine sample from Hobkin to the vet's for testing the other day, and the results just came in. Elevated white blood cells and some blood. Also some cells that could be bad if there were more of them, but are normal to see in cases of inflammation.

The vet is now sure Hobkin has an infection. We just need to keep him on the amoxicillin, and all should be well.

Vasty gobs of relief and happiness.

Thanks to everyone for all the support and get well soon thoughts for Hobkin!

Hobkin slept with me for most of the night and is doing reasonably well, probably better than fosteronfilm, actually. Since I'm in session, Matthew stayed up to watch over the lil guy for the second night/day in a row (my husband's circadian rhythms are whack) and has been doing all the other caretaker duties so that I can get what sleep I can. Hence, Matthew's low on sleep and a bit ragged around the edges from these last couple days.

It's such a blessing that he can be there 24x7 at times like these, but it's also less than optimal because Hobkin is really a mommy's boy, and I can do things with him that no one else can—like force feed him meds. Did I mention that after the first dose of amoxicillin, the silly beastie decided he no longer considers it a nummy treat? Sigh. Not sure how my boys are going to fare come Hobkin's afternoon med. time. I anticipate a pink, sticky mess...pinker and sticker than the one he and I made this AM.

Another reason to nominate this morning as Least Fun Evah: the East/West MARTA rail lines weren't working when I arrived at Five Points station. They were busing people to their East/West destinations, but from Five Points, once I get off the Northbound, I just transfer to the Eastbound for one stop to get to the capitol. So it's walking distance. Rather than deal with the bus, I set out to hoof it...in the breezy, blustery cold. And I started off in the wrong direction (of course). Fortunately, the capitol sits at the top of a hill and is crowned by a shiny, gold dome. Hard to miss. Even for someone as directionally challenged as me.

Walked in the door at work to a rush bill. Off and editing while I still couldn't feel face or fingers and not only hadn't I even tasted my coffee, I hadn't even poured it yet. But things are slowing down a bit now. Thankfully. But I'm really not going to be at my best today.

So fosteronfilm is right now with Hobkin at the vet's for an emergency visit.

Trying not to freak out. I can't be there 'cause I'm still at work, and even if I got off now, it's terribly unlikely unto impossible that I'd be able to make it to the vet's in time for the appointment. (My car's at the North Springs MARTA station, I'm at the capitol, and the vet's office is in Lawrenceville.)

We think Hobkin simply managed to scratch or cut himself in a, er, delicate area, but the alternative—internal bleeding—is something that we're not willing to gamble on. Ergo vet visit. And that scary-panic alternative is giving me serious cold sweats and shakes. Glancing compulsively at the cell phone awaiting updates...

[Edit - Update 1: Thanks for everyone's support and good wishes. Very much appreciated. Hubby just called. They think Hobkin's got kidney/bladder stones or possibly an infection. They're trying to x-ray him now to confirm whether he's got kidney stones. (I REALLY wish I was there to assist with that.) More updates as they come in...

Update 2: X-rays were clean but the vet says that doesn't preclude the possibility of stones. They decided that rather than sedate Hobkin to do a blood test, it would be safer to observe him for a couple days and administer antibiotics. So husband and skunk are heading home now with some amoxicillin and various directives and things-to-watch-for. Not a minor scratch but not as dire as other possibilities. Fretting and anxiety to continue but turned down a notch or two.

Update 3: Everyone's home now, and I'm curled up on the couch with Hobkin—not sure who's reassuring whom. On the medication front, had a flash of inspiration. In my experience, most critters really like the taste of amoxicillin, but Hobkin grouses and fights being force-fed with a feeding syringe (understandably), so I thought to try to offer it to him in a saucer. The lil guy lapped it right up, making what might have been a stressful and unpleasant 3x/day experience for all a nice treat instead! Hurray for small blessings.]

Hope all who celebrate it had a fabu Thanksgiving!

Not much accomplished over the four-day holiday at Chez Foster. fosteronfilm had a cold/sinus malaise and Hobkin had an upset tummy, which resulted in me not doing much in general aside from comforting and playing nurse to both.

Whenever Hobkin's sick or scared, he demands to be cuddled against my chest, with his head wedged beneath my chin, rather than just curling up at my side or in my lap. I think he finds the sound of my heartbeat soothing, and skunks in general (or perhaps it's only Hobkin), seem to find being pressed between/against something comforting. Maybe since they live in borrows underground in the wild, pressed in hole=safe.

So I spent a good portion of the last four days propped on the couch with eight pounds of snoring fuzziness flopped on my chest, trying to balance my laptop on my stomach so I could get some work done. And those were the times when Hobkin was snoozing flat instead of lolling to one side, requiring me to use an arm to balance him in place—else he'd roll right off in his sleep and blame me for it (yes, that's happened before)—and thereby forcing me to type one-handed. It's hard enough typing using both hands with a skunk lying on me; I can't see over him, so if I lose the home keys, if I can't find them again by touch, I'm pretty much plum out of luck.

A couple of times, Hobkin flopped on Matthew instead of me, and I couldn't resist taking a picture of my two ailing boys (with my grainy, less-than-one-pixel-lame cell phone camera, alas):

I feel sort of remiss that I didn't post a "Things I am Thankful For" Thanksgiving day post, as has been my tradition, but the day itself sort of slipped by me. Like last year, health issues conspired to make the holiday low key—although this year they weren't mine but Matthew and Hobkin's. But I think it's good to remind myself that I have much to be thankful for. So herein my belated "Things I am Thankful For" list; it's essentially a reprise of my 2006 list, but I am no less thankful two years later:

1. For my husband, Matthew, my best friend, love of my life, and soul mate. He cherishes me as I am, even with all my flaws and foibles. I am stronger because of his support and better because of his example.
2. For Hobkin, for making our house a home and reminding me that dignity is overrated, especially compared to laughter.
3. For family and friends: near, far, offline, and on.
4. For my health. Even as crappy as it is, it could be and has been much worse. And despite all the rips and worn spots in my human suit, it works well enough to keep me going—which is more than many people are able to say.
5. That I have the freedom and ability to chase my bliss and tell the stories that fill my days with magic.
6. For my beautiful home—my whimsy-filled sanctuary where unseen fey folk mysteriously turn on and off the lights and occasionally swipe and hide inexplicable items.
7. That I am not hungry or cold.
8. That I believe in and love myself.
9. For my day job, because it is an incredible blessing that I love what I do and not only don't begrudge the hours I spend at the office but am glad of them.

   

Writing Stuff

New Words:
• 300 on The Stupid Novel.

It's that time of the year again for flu shots, so yesterday on my day off, fosteronfilm and I bopped down to the K-P clinic. While there, I also had my bimonthly test tubes of blood extracted*. The phlebotomist was competent, but I still ended up bruising, and I'm also achy from the flu shot. Meh. I don't have a problem with needles, but it was a bit of a pincushiony sort of day.

But, for the first time ever, we accidentally left the gate to Hobkin's area open when we went out. When one of us is home to supervise—which is most of the time—he gets free run, but when we're out, we lock him in his rover gated area.

We came home to discover that not only had we forgotten to lock the gate, we'd also left the doors to the master bathroom+walk-in closet open—two places where he's not allowed to go 'cause of the various high potential skunk-induced mischief/danger items therein.

After confirming Hobkin's whereabouts (napping peacefully in his usual place) and that he wasn't in any distress, I began a mad-thorough search, checking to see if he'd gotten into anything scary: the sundry meds or first-aid supplies in the cabinet under the sink, the "do not injest" packets of desiccant in shoe boxes, the dental floss in the trash can, etc. And it seems that while he did indeed tip the trash can over, which fortunately had nothing more hazardous in it than a couple tissues, he didn't riffle through anything else. He didn't open any of the cabinets or de-box any shoes or anything. Huh. What a good boy! I mean he knows he's not allowed in those rooms, and it's obvious he did check them out, but he didn't get into any of the Eugie-heart-attack-causing mayhem that he could have.

Relief-amazement-relief-amusement-relief.

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*I take the immunosuppressant Imuran to keep my lupus/MCTD at bay, and it can cause a drop in white blood count as well as liver toxicity, so I have regular blood tests done to monitor those.

   

Writing Stuff

New Words:
• around 1.7K on The Stupid Novel. Momentum? What momentum?

Received:
• Payment from Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Mangazine for "The Better To..."

Seems that the world's economy is catching up to the badness of the U.S.'s. When I first made the sale, the same payment amount (in AUD) would've netted me about $10 USD more than it did yesterday. But that was when the U.S. dollar was tanking and other currencies were still holding steady. It seems the currency exchange rates between AUD and USD have now equalized out to close to their usual rates. Drat.

I suspect that will also be the case for whenever I get payment from Interzone (paid in GBP) for "Sinner, Baker, Fabulist, Priest; Red Mask, Black Mask, Gentleman, Beast." Double drat. Although I'm gun-jumping there, as the story hasn't even come out yet.
• Shiny contrib. copies of the Nov-Dec '08 issue of Cricket:

There was much squeeage when I discovered that "Cuhiya's Husband" is the lead story! As always, the Cricket folks put together a gorgeous product. Absolutely lovely.