Failing at Adulthood: My Adventures with The Messianic Fridge.

Once upon a time, I bought a house. This was probably a mistake, because I am in no way equipped for such great responsibility. [I mean, I don’t even have great power, so why should I have great responsibility? I’m basically powerless here; someone else needs to be responsible.]

The house came with all the major appliances: a dishwasher, a lovely flat-top stove, a washer and dryer, a garbage disposal, and a fridge.

The washer and dryer were probably the oldest of the bunch. It decided to die in January, which was not at all fun. I replaced it with one from the Sears scratch-and-dent warehouse…which died during the startup run, and had to be replaced with another, better one. High-efficiency, no funny pillar in the middle of the drum. Very nice. Almost worth the delivery guy being all judgemental about how I obviously messed with the settings [after it sat not doing anything for over an hour, which is absolutely not normal operation, even during a startup cycle].

The dishwasher isn’t exactly awesome, but I’m not sure how much of that is the dishwasher, how much of that is my shitty rinsing, and how much of that is the chemistry switch of dish soap. It could also have something to do with the hardness of our water [which is, apparently, just this side of ‘diamond’].

Then there’s the fridge….

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ZombiWatch 2014

ZombiWatch 2014

On the 8th, I posted about my first emergency trip to the vet. Little did I know, the whole thing was not over.

Not by a long shot.

We had a good weekend of normalcy, when, suddenly, shit went sideways again. No vomiting this time, just incredible congestion and lethargy.

This was on the 13th.

On that day, I purchased a humidifier, a bunch of really strong-smelling wet food, and a squeezy-bulb dosing thing. Also, some kitten milk. Because I wanted to get SOMETHING in her. Because I knew this was bad.

But, with her refusing to come out from her closet hide, and the breathing not improving with liberal humidifying…I called the vet again.

Another emergency visit. And bad news: a fever of 106.

So began my week of hell.
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Not exactly the best day ever.

I woke up at four or five this morning because Zombi was making the most awful noises. Noises sorta like her regular ‘lonliest kitty in the world’ meows, but somehow more horrible.

Something was not right.

I go out to check on her, and find two little puddles of slightly frothy white kitty-puke. That special grossness that happens when they have nothing in their stomach to bring out. Shortly after that, she brought up more.

A few hours ago, I found the first vomit of the night. With my foot. So that was totally pleasant.

So, off to the emergency vet. No getting dressed for the outside world. I did not care. My cat was sick, and it seemed very bad.

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