ProfessorTomoe

IndyCar stuff: I tweeted to the guy on NBCSN's race broadcasts who does the "how it works" segments after last week's race, asking him if he'd do a segment about how one particular item in the cockpit worked. He actually tweeted back, with a link to a video he did last year. Don't know how I missed that one, but I was pleasantly surprised that a network expert commentator responded! I would be ∞ times happier if I could spend my twilight years driving around, chasing and attending IndyCar races and DCI drum corps shows.

5:14 a.m. CDT 20170712. I just saw a report on the news that ongoing and serious stress on a person as a child can cause serious health problems as an adult. Guess I need to go back and sue my parents for all the screaming, humiliation, abuse, fear, neglect, and other stress they subjected me to as a kid. I'm not saying I was a poster child for anti-child-abuse organizations, but both my parents had their own special ways of making me feel like s**t, even when they weren't around. It lasted for most of my childhood, peaking with a stepmother trying to smash my brains out with a fireplace poker. I was ready to let her do it, too, just so I'd have the evidence I needed to get out of that house. Sorry, TMI. That story touched a nerve. Unlike the nerves around my sesamoid bone, which have been behaving so far today. Granted, I've been knocked out by pain medicines most of the day, but I haven't felt the voodoo touch on the sole of my foot yet.

That's the one hole in my theory. Has Tedd ever seen pictures of Noriko? We, the bunnies, have only been given one shot at her, and it was a shadowy shot at that (someone please supply link, thank you). We have no way of knowing if Tedd knows what Noriko looks like. If he doesn't, the conjecture stands as probable.

Baker has been eating his on-demand dry in the location of the day. This is good on multiple counts. First, he didn't eat well yesterday, and second, he didn't do all that well with his wet food this morning. At least he's getting nutrition, which is extra-important for a cat since they develop fatty livers when they go off of their feed. Loudmouth has been quiet, thankfully. I hope he's refrained from peeing on the bed, since Mrs. Prof had to go in to her office. EDIT: I'm going to try and talk Mrs. Prof into setting up the Trail Camera and aiming it at the spot on the bed where Loudmouth has been violating his litterbox contract. No, I'm not going to post any of it here. I'm going to have her set it up in video mode. Two problems: Mrs. Prof won't be home until after 8:30 p.m. tonight. It's going to be hard to tell when Loudmouth is actually going on the bed. If we capture it, we'll get a timestamp on it (I think). Also, a brand new, $36 case of EVO wet cat food, now known to be semi-useless, arrived from Chewy.com today. They have a distribution hub in the Dallas area, which makes it great for foods and other things they keep in stock normally. We get next day service.

Yep. That's going a be a fun day. I should have added this when I first commented on it, but I don't think Edward would do that now that Pandora's telling Tedd. If Tedd went to his dad later and asked why he never told him all this and Edward attempts to dodge the subject, it would only make things worse between them. If Edward really does care about his son, he should own up now that Tedd knows Okay, another conjecture: the reason that Tedd's father doesn't like it when Tedd spends time as a girl is that Tedd reminds him of Noriko in that form.

FARK SCHMIDTT BOB GAMMAGE DAM IT TO HAILSTORM Baker turned up his nose at the EVO wet food this morning. After I ordered an entire case of the stuff and put it on Autoship at Chewy.com yesterday, he has the gall to play Morris the Cat with it this morning. Mrs. Prof had to open up a can of Friskies to get him to eat wet food (he did come running to the Friskies, she says, which is the goal of the exercise). Of course, the outdoor ferals loved Baker's leftovers. N.B.: the outdoor ferals do NOT get Loudmouth's leftovers. Every bit of those, dry included, go straight into the garbage can to avoid infecting any of the cats with FeLV. All of Baker's histrionics took place another couple of feet closer to the door. I'd say we still have about 15 to 18 feet more to go (450 to 550 cm) before he reaches the door. And now, it's time for another outburst. FARK SCHMIDTT BOB GAMMAGE DAM IT TO HAILSTORM Loudmouth peed on the bed. Again. Without any territorial scent inducers in the room, this time. His Feliway arrives tomorrow, so we'll see if it helps, but meanwhile we're looking at another possible day of wet bedsheets before it gets here. Also scheduled to arrive Thursday via USPS is the Jackson Galaxy "Ultimate Peacemaker" set. I'm not sure if we shouldn't have included a bottle of "Safe Space for Cats" while we were at it. I'm concerned about how he'll respond once he's out of the cat room, because look at aaallll of the lovely bedding real estate we've got elsewhere in the house ...

7:58 a.m. CDT 20170712. Managed to get myself another couple of hours of sleep, feeling less discombobulated. Coffee will help as well. One thing I haven't mentioned recently is that I've been having PVCs. Lots and lots of PVCs. They started before Loudmouth moved in and have continued. Most of them have been of what I call the "fart, stumble, and fall" variety, not mild, but not "get me to the farking hospital" either. Much higher frequency than usual, and I'm not sure that Loudmouth is to blame. Still no sesamoid pains yet. Hoping there won't be any.

5:54 a.m. CDT 20170712. Woke up with pain in my usual right back/hip/leg spots. Probably because I overslept my pain medicine for about 75-90 minutes. Still getting over the pain. Tossed a couple of club crackers down my stomach to buffer the hydrocodone. No gunshot pains to my left sole yet. A couple of twinges, but that's about it as of this writing. Found out something striking last night when Mrs. Prof was checking my foot for obvious spots, though—the insole of my orthopedic shoe comes out. Just fell right out. I'm not sure if it's supposed to do that, but it did. We'll ask the podiatrist on Thursday. Might wind up getting a new shoe anyway, since the insole is flat where my heel normally sits. There are a couple of other flat spots, too. It was only $29, and I'm sure we can get the podiatrist to write a prescription for it, saving us the sales tax. Baker has jumped up on the sofa where my legs would normally be. I hate to do it, but I'm going to have to move him. I'm seeing double as I try to type this. Not ready to function yet.

It's shortly after 5:30 a.m., and Baker hasn't finished off his dry on-demand yet. He'd polished the bowl the two previous nights, so this is confusing. He also hasn't knocked off the top of his water fountain so far. I'm still going to move his food a couple of feet away from where it was. We've got to make this work, and we can't pussyfoot around. (looks for The List, gladly offers his name)

I predict Tedd's father faking a seizure at some point in the near future.

Baker ate a bit more of his wet food at the new location tonight. Mrs. Prof put out the on-demand dry in the same new location for overnight feeding. I'll move it another couple of feet tomorrow morning before she feeds him and see if he notices. Here's hoping he'll eat the wet food again. ( <—going to be using that emoji a lot over the next few weeks) Right now, Mrs. Prof is playing with Loudmouth in the cat room. Baker is parked directly outside, wondering what's going on outside and probably wondering why he's not being played with. He's meowing at the moment. Man, this is going to be hard. EDIT: I called Baker over to me (and he actually came!) after the meowing started and picked him up. I was going to put him on the sofa next to me and pet him, give him attention, what have you, when Mrs. Prof figuratively burst through the door of the cat room. So much for that idea. Now we've got a cat with what we call "cocaine eyes," running from one end of the house to the other, demanding playtime. Mrs. Prof is giving him laser chase time. In fact, he just slammed into the metal doors of my closet (I need a SAFER barrier there).

10:55 p.m. CDT 20170711. I am full of pills, including my 10pm dose of pain medicine. The gunshots through the ball of my foot have stopped for now, or have been dulled by the drugs. Mrs. Prof took a look at my sole to see if there was anything obvious that would point to the source of the pain. There wasn't. I am confuse. Some good news: my *right* big toe—the one which had nail fungus—is looking better after treatment with Kerasal gel. The podiatrist Dremeled it down and clipped it to where only half of it remained at my last appointment. I've been putting the Kerasal on it more or less regularly since then. Seems to be working as advertised. I don't dare put it on my left toenail yet, due to the swelling and reddening that's still there.

Mrs. Prof has a theory about why Loudmouth peed on the bed. We have a Litter Genie cat litter disposal thingy that usually sits next to Baker's litterbox. Well, she accidentally left it in Loudmouth's room, containing Baker's poop. Bingo—territorial odor issue. The Litter Genie is out of Loudmouth's room and back where it belongs. Loudmouth has gone back to using his litterbox. For now.

Thank you. I do appreciate it. Elsewhere in the world, my damned sesamoid bone is not done with me yet. I thought I might be through with the spikes, but I'm still getting them. Lord only knows what's setting them off. $!#@$$! <—Like the one that just fired off right there as I was about to type this sentence. Owwwwwarrrrgarbl! Enough already! My podiatrist appointment on Thursday is supposed to be about my possibly infected big toe, but that may be added to if these things keep firing through the ball of my foot.

I wonder if Phix would know anything about that ...

Well, Mrs. Prof has washed, dried, and replaced the bedsheets in Loudmouth's room. We'll have to see if this was a sleeping incontinence issue, a territory marking issue (shouldn't be, since he's neutered), or a problem with his litter box since the lid was on (it's been removed now). No further signs of problems yet. I just hope there aren't any problems tomorrow, since Mrs. Prof will be at her office and I won't be able to check.

You mean these?

A bit of rest with my foot elevated seems to have helped a little bit with my sesamoid bone. God, that was awful. Here's the best way I can explain it: did you ever see the movie Warlock? The one with Julian Sands as the warlock? Well, there's a scene where the heroine is chasing the warlock and attacking magically him by pounding a nail into his footsteps in the dirt. I felt like the warlock did—shots of pain from nowhere, going straight through the bottom of my foot. Damn, they hurt. I hope they're gone. At least I've got more pain medicine in me now, since it's after 4pm. (I'm on a 4am/10am/4pm/10pm schedule.) I just saw on the news that the U.S. Attorney General was at some organization meeting here in the Metroplex today, talking about the "opioid epidemic." Every time I hear that, it gives me chills. I'm not an illegal opioid user, nor am I an addict for the sake of just using them, as the prior paragraph should show. I have a legitimate need for pain medicine, and every time some old crony from the "Just Say No" era talks on TV about the evils of opioids as if they're all evil, I just want to throw my remote at my television. (I'm sorry, @The Old Hack, if I've posted this vent in the wrong place. I needed to get it out of my system, and I figured that it's less political and more medical, hence the post here. I will accept any punishment if you deem it necessary.)

You said it, sport. I'm having another "can't win for losing" day when it comes to things hurting. Not only am I getting hit at random, unannounced moments by sesamoid bone pain, my right back/hip/leg/foot is having its way with me as well today. You know it's bad when you look in your pain medicine box for your next dose and realize you took it over four hours ago. My next one is 90 minutes away, but my body just keeps piling on the pains. Addendum: my sesamoid bone is going to drive me bonkers. I just tried to walk to the kitchen for some tea and back and got hit with a massive spike right through the ball of my foot. Felt like a bolt of lightning came up through the floor.

I might patent it and sell it in a bottle. I'd make billions. 12:40 p.m. CDT 20170711. Finally, maybe some good news, although that's what I thought with UT Southwestern, too. I'm guardedly excited. I've been given a consultation appointment with pain management doctor #3. It's not until August 2nd, but that's still within my current supply of pain medicine. I'm going to have to let Mrs. Prof do some of the talking at the appointment, mainly about why we've sought him out in particular (it's on advice from a husband of a friend of hers). God, I hope this works. I'm so tired of chasing my tail when it comes to pain management. Speaking of pain, I'm having pure hell with my sesamoid bone in my left foot today. It flat out hurts beyond what the hydrocodone can control when I step on it. Way beyond—enough to make me stop in my tracks and back up off of that foot. I can't even sit comfortably, due to the pressure on it from my orthopedic shoe. It's a stabbing pain, like having a 10p nail thrust through the sole of your foot. I'm going to try and get some rest and see if the bone will settle back into position.

Okay, first real Loudmouth problem: he peed on the bed. The one shown in the pictures. We don't know why. My knee-jerk reaction was to order another Feliway diffuser for him. The other one we bought for Baker might have thrown the household chemistry off, since it just went into service last evening. Said urination took place between then and now (11:54 a.m. CDT). So, Loudmouth will get his own diffuser on Thursday. Anyone have any ideas as to what happened to cause this?

It's a hard thing to remember when you're already depressed for various reasons, as I was when I wrote the statement in question. I promise I'll try to work on bringing the sine wave back up. Today's tales in the Loudmouth journey thread have already helped a bit. Sorry for last night's response.

Quick progress report: after Baker ate some of the EVO chicken/turkey wet recipe, he took a break and climbed atop the carpeted boxes you see in the second and third pictures above. I took advantage of this, after letting him rest a bit, to move his feeding station again, approximately a yard. I then gathered up Baker, called him a good kitty, and sat him down in front of his food. He looked confused for a moment, then went off somewhere. Sigh. We're leaving the feeding station there for the rest of the day. Mrs. Prof informs me that, when she switched out wet for dry, he ate a few dry morsels at the new location. Small progress, but we'll take what we can get. A couple more feet tomorrow, I hope. I guess I should mention Loudmouth in all of this. He eats anything given to him, at the time it's given. Part of his feral life, I guess. I don't think we're going to have a problem with his part of the meet & greet, especially since he was used to eating around other cats in the first place. It's the long-term co-existence issue that I'm worried about. Will Baker tolerate another cat on his turf? Will Loudmouth be able to spend a day with another cat in the same house with no way to wander off and get away from its smell? For the Baker part of the situation, we did employ a Feliway diffuser below his favorite window hammock. I don't know if we need one for Loudmouth yet. Another Loudmouth mention: Mrs. Prof says that, since he has moved in and started getting good food and regular attention, Loudmouth is looking much better. She says he has a "sheen" about his coat that wasn't present when he was outside. He's also not shedding as much (not necessary at a constant 78°F/25.5°C) and isn't as gaunt looking as he was outside. So far, the only real problem we've had with him was with the cat carrier used to get him to the vet. It has bare chrome wire for the cage door. He tried so hard to get out that he bloodied his nose. We have another one with vinyl-coated wire—that's what gets used the next time he goes anywhere. (Make that two cats we have who hate riding in the carriers.)

I think we might be ready to start inching Baker's feeding station toward Loudmouth's door now. He finished off his on-demand dry food last night. He's also picked up another bad habit: flipping open the lid of his water fountain, presumably looking for more food within. I don't know how we're going to get over that problem, but I know we're not going to get over it by increasing his on-demand dry. He's going to have to learn to eat more of his wet food when it's presented to him, somehow. Maybe the food station moves will take care of that. If they don't, we'll have to go back to a plain water dish for him until this is over. EDIT: I checked with Mrs. Prof. She says she puts down Baker's wet food first and leaves it for about 45 minutes to an hour before taking it up and replacing it with a tennis-ball-sized circle of dry on-demand food. To date, he hasn't been finishing the wet food in the given time. He's too used to being a feeding-on-demand cat. That has to change for the "meet & greet" sessions to work. Update on the first attempt at moving his food: it sounded like he tried "covering" his wet food. Good Lord, he's a stubborn cat. Further update: Mrs. Prof used EVO duck this morning, introducing a new variable to the equation. URRGH. Of course, Baker didn't like it as much. She switched it back to the chicken/turkey recipe. He ate more of that. No more duck for Baker, no more screwing around with variables, I told her. Not unless she wants Loudmouth to be stuck in his room for the next six months. BTW, she had me get on Chewy.com and set up an auto-ship for the canned chicken/turkey wet food. I guess she gets the idea. I hope.

I'm not sure I like the connotation you're making here.