ProfessorTomoe

More IndyCar stuff. This happened during a trip down to Galveston and Houston in 2013 that Mrs. Prof planned for our 30th anniversary (sort of—it was a bit early, but the idea was what counted). We went to the first race of the 2013 Shell-Pennzoil Grand Prix of Houston doubleheader, which is best known for the second race crash that brought Dario Franchitti's career to an end (we didn't go to that one). Well, my health was deteriorating, so we parked in the handicapped spots (I had a placard). Unfortunately, there was no path to get from where we parked to our seats without climbing stairs to a tower bridge. Mrs. Prof went into action, talking to this policeman, that official, and so on. We weren't the only ones with this problem, so they worked something out for us. We just had to wait a few minutes while some pre-race prep took place at a gate next to the front stretch of the race course. That pre-race preparation involved a parade of every IndyCar in the field, so close you could touch them, followed by each of the drivers on their pre-race scooters, again close enough to reach out and touch their fire suits. Mrs. Prof is a huge Tony Kanaan fan, and she saw him up VERY close and personal. We even saw Dario Franchitti drive out for his next-to-last-race. After the entire field went past us, we got to walk across the track to our front stretch seats. Man, what an experience.

11:43 p.m. CDT 20170717. Didn't have a chance to research metatarsals tonight like I'd planned. Still painful. Still no gut movement yet, either. Had a major crash & burn late in the evening, when we were dealing with Loudmouth and Baker. I came into the living room and almost passed out on the sofa. Had trouble swallowing when I took a drink of tea. Not fun. Mrs. Prof asked if I used the magic mouthwash today, to which I answered yes. (She made the CVS run for me, BTW.)

An accidental but major breakthrough was made tonight. Baker slipped past us and into Loudmouth's cat room during feeding time. Loudmouth was up on the bed during the entire episode—scrunched up at first, but relaxed later on. Baker reconnoitered the entire room, from one corner to another, every square inch. Mrs. Prof sat down next to Loudmouth and petted him, while I gave Baker encouragement from standing at the door of the room. The pair met face to face one time, for a couple of seconds, while Loudmouth was scrunched. Baker had extended up onto the edge of the bed to see him. They quickly separated. There was only one other time when the two were on the bed at the same time, and Mrs. Prof was in between. Baker only spent a couple of moments up there before jumping down. The entire episode ended with me leaving the doorway (I had a physical crash & burn), followed by Baker shortly afterward. Mrs. Prof said she tried to pick up Loudmouth, but he gave her a bit of a grumble. She aborted the mission at that. It was an exciting, yet somewhat scary episode. We can only hope that things go better when we permanently open the door!

Baker is being stubborn today. Mrs. Prof has been checking to see when he'll go up into his hammock in the master bedroom and chill so that she can let Loudmouth out and roam for a bit. I think Baker's on to that little game. Baker has gone up to the window, but only as high as the cat tree we have placed for him. He won't let the bedroom door out of his sight. I think this might be a perfect night for "base camp swapping." Put Baker in the cat room and let Loudmouth out. I don't know if Baker will play along, but we can try. Mrs. Prof agrees. She's got some chores to run first before we try it. In the meanwhile, she found an old plastic translucent babygate. It slides to fit the door, but it doesn't allow direct sight between the two cats. My main worry is that the only way their scent can get through is over the top. All I know is we're not using it tonight or tomorrow.

12:57 CDT 20170717. Still having the freaking trouble with the 2nd and 3rd metatarsals. Bullet shot morning. I worry that the podiatrist is going to either want to get proactive and try to fix the metatarsal issue, or tell me it's something I'm going to have to live with and leave it up to the pain management system. I think I'd almost prefer the former, if it'd get rid of the long-term pain. I don't know if I could take the inability to walk for God knows how long, or the post-op pain (and whether it'd be worse than the bullet shots). It's a decision I may have to make, to fix a hidden birth defect 53 years on. Re: last night's gut problem: no movement. (Get the list out.) I took two stool softeners this morning in hopes that they'd help. Nothing yet. I'm not looking forward to the conclusion of this issue. I know it'll be painful. I went back on the magic mouthwash again for the throat. It's helped some. I shouldn't need that stuff at all, but I keep having to fall back on it. Finally, Mrs. Prof forgot a couple of times to make a CVS run for me over the weekend. That has resulted in me being out of my Ambien CR. A run is an absolute necessity today.

If you've got anything weird, go see your doctor. That's the basic rule around here.

Well, we have another more pressing problem–or, the return of a problem now: bed pee. @CritterKeeper, did you see anything in those numbers I posted from his tests that would indicate a problem? He was doing fine until sometime between breakfast and around noon. He's been out walking through the house for the last couple of days since getting treated, and we haven't had this problem. What do you think might trigger it now?

Let's pick this one up again, shall we? Date: early-to-mid-December, 1980. I was a senior in high school in Houston (technically in the Pasadena, TX school district). Several people convinced me to go on a trip with the Close-Up Foundation to Washington, D.C. with them. Needless to say there would be shoulder bumping if I went, but I didn't think I had the money to go. It was very expensive for the time—I think $600. Here steps in my step-mother, in one of the only good deeds she ever did for me. She worked as a secretary at a very, VERY high-end business club on top of one of the skyscrapers in Downtown Houston. She raised her voice to a few select members and asked for sponsorships. It worked. She got enough money for the trip, no strings attached, plus an extra $100 from none other than World War II war crimes prosecutor and Watergate Special Prosecutor Leon Jaworski for me to spend on the trip! More on this later, with people I actually saw/met/spoke to ...

Ice cold, please, with a side order of gagh.

Mrs. Prof tried a couple of cups of Black Knight. She's come to a similar conclusion: it's just too dark. I'm trying a second cup with more creamer and an extra packet of Equal. Now it tastes salty, for some unknown reason. I don't think we'll be finishing off this box.

Baker's feeding station is now on the opposite side of the hall from Loudmouth's door. By tomorrow, they will be eating two feet away from each other! At long last. I realize this is where the introduction of a new cat is supposed to *start*, but for us this will be a major event. Fingers crossed! Still, we won't be able to do the actual introduction for a few days, due to Mrs. Prof's schedule. Loudmouth just started meowing a couple of seconds ago. No idea why. Mrs. Prof went into his room and went into baby talk mode, so I can't understand a word she's saying. She's doing something to calm him down. Baker had been eating. Now, he's buggered off again. Mrs. Prof has come out and taken both cats' wet foods. Now, she's prepping their dry.

Oh, you're in that stage. Sorry, didn't realize. Take care of yourself.

10:46 p.m. CDT 20170716. A couple of problems have reared their usual ugly heads today. First off, my sore throat seems to be coming back. I really don't understand this. I shouldn't have even a hint of a sore throat with all of the medicines I'm on. I don't know which way to go with this—to my podiatrist, who prescribed the Augmentin, to the ENT, who specializes in throat problems, or to my PCP, who coordinates all of the above. Fish or cut bait? Which do I do? Second, my intestines are rearing their really ugly heads today. Note: I have what's called a tortuous colon. My gastroenterologist was unable to do a complete colonoscopy on me due to the length of and twisting of my large intestines. (He recommended an MRI colonoscopy for my next one.) It's been acting worse than the stars of Plan 9 from Outer Space this evening. Cramping, pain, gas, but nothing coming out. As a result, I'm trying a rather risky strategy: I've taken a gas pill and two Imodium to stop the pain a while back. Just now, I've taken two stool softeners to try and get things moving in a less painful manner tomorrow. The second issue was made worse because things felt like they were going to come out while I had my shoe off. I had to try and hobble (with the help of my cane) on my left heel to the bathroom before an accident happened (it never did). The trip aggravated my padded 2nd and 3rd metatarsals. I took a pain pill when I got back, since the timing was only 15 minutes early. I have enough problems with the accidents and back pains. I don't need my guts rebelling on me. Before you say, "Use an Opioid-Induced-Constipation medication," please note that I normally suffer from IBS-D, which might make things worse than they already are. I also have no gall bladder. Then there's that tortuous colon I mentioned earlier. Too many potential problems.

Cooking in the dark?

Loudmouth came out and played today—literally! We didn't think that he would be predisposed to chasing a laser, but he went after it almost the same way that Baker does. His pupils dilated, he crouched down, and he went into full tracking mode. A tad less energetic than Baker, mind you, but Loudmouth revealed that there's still a bit of kitten left in that old geezer cat. He also branched out and explored other parts of the house. including the dining room and Baker's bed room (technically Baker's, although he doesn't spend that much time in it). Loudmouth went in there and perched up on the windowsill, watching the activity outside. Mrs. Prof brought Loudmouth's food outside to where Baker's food station is now sitting (after moving Baker's, of course). Loudmouth cheerily chowed down. He does not seem to have any problem with food whatsoever. I'm still chalking that up to his history as a semi-feral.

Thanks, but I'm not sure if that would apply in Baker's case. He doesn't have food possession / growling issues. All he has is the covering and pawing issues. He did it occasionally when we were feeding him by our back door, but it's gotten worse since we've moved his food.

Spoke too soon. We're having problems with Baker wanting to cover up his food. Mrs. Prof had been leaving just one bowl in the feeding station (it's got two spaces, for anyone who didn't look at the link in the previous message). Baker's been using it to drag the station around as if he's been exhibiting covering action, in addition to real covering action outside the bowl area. I've asked her to put an empty bowl in the open space so he can't drag it. I can understand the covering behavior, but this is his on-demand dry food he's "covering." He shouldn't be doing that. Yet another problem on the way toward the meeting with Loudmouth. Any suggestions, anyone?

Of course. As Eddie Izzard said, "They do say Britain and America are two countries separated by the Atlantic Ocean ..."

From what I've learned on Scribophile.com, "toward" is the American usage, while "towards" is the British usage. Could be wrong.

Well, it's 5:22 a.m. CDT, and Loudmouth hasn't done his yowling symphony tonight. Mrs. Prof went in after the previous post and said he did come out meowing. So, probably no problem. I think he was just chilling in his new luxury fleece bed. Predicting that he'll be okay when she goes in to feed him later this morning. Baker has become more lovey-dovey as the days go by. He likes to wrap himself around my legs when I'm standing. However, his speed bump / road block behavior is getting worse, too. I don't know if he wants attention before he'll let us by, or if he wants us to "answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see." (My favorite color is grey, BTW.) I'm seriously worried that I'm going to try stepping over him and he's going to bolt, making me fall over again. I am an official medical fall risk—my bones and the wood veneer floor do not like each other, and it's the floor that comes out on the winning side. I can only wonder how Loudmouth will behave. Even on the non-lovey-dovey side and the hopes that he won't clash with Baker, I wonder about his behavior. Will he any of the current taboos, like trying to crawl under the sofa, crawling on the top of the back cushions of the sofa, crawling on top of desks (BIG taboo), getting on the counter, or any number of other things we've trained Baker not to do? I have a feeling that we're going to have to pull out the old Ssscat Pet Deterrent air cans that we used to train Baker (they do work). As much as I want this introduction to work, it's sending my anxiety levels higher exponentially as the day approaches. Oh, BTW, Mrs. Prof had me order a hepper Nomnom Pet Bowl for Loudmouth. She bought a grey one with an extra set of stainless steel bowls for Baker. I wanted to make sure that Loudmouth got his own color, but the only colors available other than grey were lime green and white. I went with the white. Besides, they wanted more money for the lime green one, and the color just wasn't worth it. (It probably would have scared Loudmouth away, anyway.) Current note: I think I just heard Loudmouth bang on his door. I haven't heard the accompanying yowl, but I don't have my hearing aids in. Yes, his yowl can be low decibel at times. I told Mrs. Prof that it was her turn to check on him this morning, but I'm up, I've had coffee, so I might as well see if he's okay. EDIT: He's just fine. He was up on the bed (i.e., I was hearing things). He jumped down from the bed and greeted me, but he didn't like it when I sat on his extraordinarily noisy bed. I stood up, at which point he jumped back up on the bed and started rubbing himself against me, purring all the time. He even let me give him a tummy rub—something Baker absolutely will not tolerate. Seeing that everything was fine, I left. He wasn't done. He shoved his arm under the door and started yowling. Enough was enough. I invoked the treaty from last night. Mrs. Prof went ahead and got up completely to do her morning cat chores, including feeding Loudmouth. That calmed him down. She also cheated Baker's dish around the corner of the hallway entrance. Still opposite Loudmouth's door, but ever so close to the introduction. He nibbled, but not for long. The point was still made—he ate something in the new location. Now, we have to get both of them eating at the door at the same time. Only then can we call this a successful introduction.

Fresh Roasted Coffee dot com's Black Knight Dark Roast coffee, Keurig 2.0. Bought it on a whim, based on a coupon they sent that included free shipping. Lives up to its name in darkness, but I think that's just a whim of the roaster as well. Bitter taste, even with creamer and sweetener. Tastes like slightly burnt walnuts. Not too many redeeming values on the first cup. Hoping it gets better, because I've got 17 more of these buggers to go through.

My cell phone is officially abandonware. Remember all of the ads about how Microsoft's Nokia Lumia 1020 was going to be so great, with a 43 megapixel camera? Well, that's about all it's good for now. Microsoft never updated it past Windows 8.1, and I've learned that they've now officially killed mainstream support for Windows 8.1 phones. Sigh. Mrs. Prof has version 7 of the Samsung Galaxy phone (non-exploding type). I'm a smart-phone widower. I don't want a phone that'll push me that far. I just want something that will support all of the major apps that are out there nowadays. Such is not the case with my Win8.1 phone.

I don't know if she took it that way, but you might be right. I hope it gave her some impetus to speed things up. Anyway, she's was just the cat room, having some play time with Loudmouth. One change from pre-illness is where he's spending his time. He used to stay on top of the bed. Now he stays on some sort of cushion under the bed. He still keeps coming out when she enters the room. Mrs. Prof just left the cat room and said, "Now he's going downhill again." I think she's overreacting. You see, she put a new cushion that we bought from Chewy.com in the room, under the bed. He's happy as a clam to stay there. He's not meowing when she goes in to meet him, but I don't think that's necessary given how much attention he's had today. He's not running a fever, he looks okay—I don't see a problem. We'll see how he is in the morning.

I just measured. We're right at nine feet away Baker's feeding station to Loudmouth's door, which means we're eight feet away from our goal. That's well past the halfway point. I'm going to guess that we can cover those eight feet in 4 or 5 days. Why so long? Well, Baker's always eaten right up against something: the back door at first, and bookshelves during the move. Now, somehow, we're going to have to cross the ocean blue, as it were. Open space from one wall to the other. I give it one more day along the bookshelves, then an attempt at the other wall. I predict that attempt will fail. We'll probably have to move closer to the bookshelves, then try the other wall again on day three. Otherwise, if the jump works, we can inch toward Loudmouth's door on day three. Day four will be the inching to Loudmouth's door if the jump doesn't work. Then, on our last day, food within two feet of Loudmouth's feeding dish with the door in between, as prescribed in the introduction instructions we've been following. I'm hoping for a 4 day move (that's a lie—I'm really hoping for a 3 day move, but I think Mrs. Prof will be too afraid to make the big jump. We'll see.). (I'm sorry for all the Imperial measurements. For our metric friends, just imagine the distance from the inside of your elbow to your wrist, and that'll be a close estimate of one foot.) EDIT: WHOA! Mrs. Prof surprised the hell out of me by crossing part of the ocean already. I told her when she woke up from her nap about the eight foot distance to Loudmouth's door and told her I didn't know how we were going to get across the open floor. She figured it out on her own. She put Baker's feeding station at the far corner of the hall and gave Baker his "taste" of wet food. He ate a few bites before doing the "covering" behavior. He's going to get his on-demand food in the same spot. I think she's going to try and beat my estimate, which I also told her about. I'm stoked!

6:14 p.m. CDT 20170715. Soup and sleep seem to have helped somewhat. I've still got slightly swollen glands and painful sinuses, but I don't feel like I'm going to fall over at any moment. Going to take a Sudafed in a minute. Only other problem now is that I REALLY overslept my pain medicine. I was supposed to take it at 4pm. Oops. No wonder I got a bullet shot after I got back from getting tea. (adds pain pill to Sudafed)