Waiting For The Worms

Are you singing it in your head yet? Maybe not, but by the time I am done you might be itching all over.

About 3 ½ to 4 weeks ago the boys and I decided to adopt a kitty. After some research and thinking, I chose the local humane society as the destination of choice as they have many that need homes and the fee is only $15. That is one hell of a price for a kitty, pre-vaccinated, neutered and micro-chipped, can’t be beat right? Wrong. Kitty came home and was bestowed the name Mr. Paws McLongbottom, now on referred to as Mr. Paws because I refuse to write his last name that many times. About 1 ½ weeks into having our new baby, I noticed that he was missing a little hair on his ear. No biggie right? Stuff happens to little kitties especially when they are so happily terrorizing their new home. Another week goes by and I notice that he has another small spot and a very small portion of hair all the way around his tail. I will take “things that make you go hmmmm” for $500 Alex and then turned to the internet.

At the onset of my search I found several disgusting pics with which to compare these spots. My two personal favorites were mange and ringworm but the pics were so horrible and none matched what I was looking at. I came across several articles that stated a nervous disorder could be the culprit but Mr. Paws wasn’t nervous at all. The damned cat spent his days doing anything he could to upset my OCD and part of his night stalking, attacking and chewing on my feet. There was clearly no nervous condition here. It just looked like dry skin and several opinions were that it could be an allergy of some sort but what? The only thing I could think of in the house that he could be allergic to was our chronically depressed Pug, Hank. Nothing made sense.

A couple of days after returning from Las Vegas from the trip with pseudo hubby RJ, I saw that Hank had a spot on his foot. Alright what the hell is really going on now?  I have a friend, Stacey Q, that has a vet supply place that’s always helping out with her animals ailments so I called her up. She told me where to go so I rushed off with pics on phone to solve this mystery. The man I saw at the store looked at my pics and said,  “looks like mange to me” and promptly sold me a tube of cream for $22. I was told to put it on the spots a couple times a day until the hair grew back. YAY!! Problem solved, right? Drat, wrong again!

I woke up about 5 days ago with a very noticeable red, round, crusty, yummy spot on the inside of my left knee. HOLY CRAP, its ringworm. There was no having to guess or wondering what it was. Nope, this was definitely ringworm and I now had it. New game plan. We needed 2 visits to the vet, one for each animal and a visit to the doctor for me. Our $15 kitty had now turned in to an “over $200” kitty. I now spend my days cleaning, more than usual, disinfecting, keeping animals out of the bedrooms, administering oral and topical medications and praying to the universe that the kids wouldn’t get it. Days have gone by with no signs on the kiddos UNTIL, yes UNTIL this weekend. Thing 1 ended up with 2 spots. Cancel birthday party they were to attend. This morning Thing 2 woke up with 4 spots, one on his forehead and 3 next to his ear. The only survivor so far is Z-Fred, the oldest child, who may be spared since he showers 3 times a day and refuses to use the same towel each time he does as it is.  I so far have only popped up 3 spots but DAMN they are no fun. Itching, burning and ugly as hell. I am vain enough to be canceling my participation in the Inland Empire Corset Run next weekend because the beauty of a pretty corset on the back of a Harley will be totally killed by the spot on my right bicep.

I guess the bottom line is this…my house is in isolation just waiting, for the worms.

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Leaving Las Vegas After My Double Hardway

Labor Day weekend my pseudo hubby RJ and I headed to Las Vegas to have one last Sin City visit with one of my favorite relatives Big-J and his perfectly chosen wife, the Beckster. Never knowing what to expect, I prayed to the universe to ease my apparent food poisoning symptoms so that the appropriate amount of trouble could be had, after all, Big-J and the Beckster were moving so we could get thrown out of anywhere without having to worry about them ever needing to return. So, with pseudo hubby RJ snoring beside me in the car and me ready to throw up all over him, I dreamt about the good times to come.

RJ and I have stayed at a few different hotels in Vegas over our years of visiting so I can say with confidence that this had to be the best yet. What other hotel in Vegas would put complimentary ear plugs bedside so that you could sleep soundly regardless of the airport next door? None. You see, on this trip we had decided to forgo the hotel/casino type lodging for the McCarran International Airport Best Western. We were saving money, no casino AND one night free. Who could ask for anything more? Other than maybe the Wild Wild West where all the hookers hung out, this was the best around. When Big-J and the Beckster arrived we started a tour of Vegas, taking photos of the underbelly of the city. After a few snapshots, hungry and ready to start the party, we made our way to the Red Rock Casino. As we enter, the Beckster points out the green sign I have been looking for. With the theme music from Chariots of Fire playing in my head, I beeline for Starbucks for that venti iced chai latte that I know they will make with a smile. Seconds later I have my drink handed to me by a “boy” with bad attitude. It was still a win win all the way around. I got to pay $6 for a drink that is normally $4, made by BBA, and he got no tip. I was breaking even already. It was going to be a good night.

Fun in full force!

I love hanging out with Big-J and the Beckster because we always get to do off the wall, out of the way things that most Vegas junkies don’t. Out of the way restaurants like The Omelet House (YUM), touring strip malls that didn’t make it in this economy and BINGO. Yes, I said Bingo. Don’t knock it unless you have tried it. There is so much more to be had than just daubing numbers that you can’t keep track of. There’s the drinks, the imposed silence, the monotonous tone of numbers being called, the thrill of “I only need 2 more numbers”, and of course all of the crazies with their troll dolls lined up. I don’t know if you are aware of this but you are NOT supposed to laugh and have fun during Bingo, which of course is why we have so much fun doing it. Imbibing and trying not to laugh at the serious ridiculousness of the situation has got to be the best part. Well, it was the best part, until that night. It was the night of the double hardway and things were going to get crazy! The numbers are being called; we are drinking, daubing and laughing way too loud when I realize that I have Bingo. With slight hesitation and disbelief, my hand shoots in the air and I call out BINGO so they know that it is I, the woman that laughs too loud and not triple troll doll lady, that has won. Within seconds they are headed over as the gang checks out my cards to see the bingo daubed line and that is when the Beckster says to me, “this game was double hardway”. WTF? What is double hardway? I say loudly, “never mind” and can feel the room sigh relief mixed with the desire to harm me. Go ahead and try. I have hubby RJ, karate master Beckster and Big-J, who is just plain crazy. We made it through the rest of our games, non-winners but with our lives. I am sad to say that I left Vegas, having never achieved that double hardway.