On being a pregnant cripple part deux

This is me a few weeks ago at our bach - I'm WAY fatter than this now (it was too hot for pants - it's still too hot for pants)

So I thought I'd catch ya'll up with where things are at re: pregnancy and crippledom.  Am I still a pregnant cripple?  

Yes, yes I am.

So after I last wrote a few things happened.

Very shortly after writing a complaint to my doctors clinic re: the crappy Dr, I received a phone call from the head of practice.  He concurred that this particular Dr has a shite bedside manner and apologised.  He gave me another consult via the phone and said based on previous history, notes and pain levels, I should go on the sickness benefit.  I said no thank you - going on the sickness benefit would just make me more depressed (Murray probably also earns too much).  I asked if I could just try the drugs and cutting work back and doing all the exercises and see how that goes.  He said that was fine, and at this stage, it's working ok.

I have been regularly seeing my physio .  Last week was an awesome week where for the first time she could tell me my hips were sitting in the right place.  This was fantastic news as by this stage both of my hips were displaced.  The left hip was also very tight, and kept catching on tissue near the joint when I did things like tried to get up from the toilet, which resulted in me often getting 'stuck' for several minutes.  After a few good days sadly, my hip started doing this again, so it's back to the physio I go for some more painful hip/butt massage and manipulation.  Hoping a few days of good hips is a sign of more days of good hips to come.

I really like yoga now.  Every Tuesday I'm tired, and kinda don't want to go, but I make myself, and afterward I always feel great.  There are skills I am learning which are applicable to many areas of my life, and I always come out of class feeling relaxed.  Every time we have to do some sort of 'visualisation' that's too out there for me, I just visualise something awesome but somehow related, like memes about cats, or babies wearing sunglasses, or bad catch phrases from the 80's.  Murray and I went to one of my yoga teachers couple's workshops which is about massage and acupressure for pregnancy and labour.  That was awesome.  Now Murray knows some sweet massage moves, and also (I think) feels a little more confident about how to be useful when I do go into labour.

I'm also doing my best to get in the water as much as I can.  The other side effect of my hips being wonky is my lower back is in constant pain whether walking, sitting or lying down.  Even with the brace on it is painful for me to do simple things like make the bed.  And with getting heavier (I went from just fat looking to REALLY pregnant looking about two weeks ago), each week is more difficult than the last.  Being in the water takes that weight off for a while.  It means I can feel like a regular person for a bit - I'm not in pain, and I have much better mobility.  Exercise is really important to aid in getting my hips to do what they're supposed to, and this is much easier in the water.  I'm exercising regularly more now than I have at any other time in the last five years.

And despite being very sore, and having to take codeine, and needing to 'take things easy' (which I'm not very good at) - I'm feeling pretty good.  My brain is working well enough to read - and what I'm reading combined with what I'm learning in yoga makes me feel confident that I will be able to deal with labour no matter what happens (high chance of needing C section if my hips don't sort themselves out).  And I'm pretty sure all the endorphins from exercise are also helping me be less anxious.

I still think pregnancy sucks, but it's manageably suck.  Learning about what physiologically happens through pregnancy and labour has taken the fear out of the process and for me that's been the biggest thing.  I still have broken capillaries all over my chest that I'll get lasered at some point.  I still have bleeding gums and the occasional blood nose.  And I've just begun experiencing that wonderful thing they call 'reflux' (never had it before so took me a while to work out what it was - it's gross). 

And I've had a few 'happies' since I started looking really pregnant:

- someone got up so I could sit down on the bus home from work
- a lady let me go in the front of a long toilet queue at the pools 

- a boy racer dude offered me a ride home in his lowered 90's Subaru with tints and a blow off valve (I declined because I was 200 metres away from my house, and blow off valves are stupid)

- I freaked out my yoga class on Tuesday by my hip 'sticking' when I was in the Downward Facing Dog.  I would have laughed at me.

So it's not all bad...

On Cat Scratch Fever

Huckle's ear - it looks like a cut, but is actually dissected.

So even though pregnancy sucks and takes up a whole bunch of time with exhaustion, appointments and insanity, the rest of your life just keeps happening.  Including pet sagas.  I still haven't written about the neighbour-pitbull-trespass-saga (maybe another time - that will be a long rant), but we've had quite a few pet related incidents since we bought our house in the 'burbs.  The latest, and most costly one has been the Dash (ginger) vs Huckle (our ginger) saga.

When we first moved in we were cat-drama free.  Huckle settled in very quickly, Roux took a bit longer to come out from under the bed, but was soon fine.  Our cats are not the kind that have big territories, and can usually be spotted within a very short distance of our house, (or bed, or couch).  Roux now likes sleeping in the neighbours goat house.  To date, there have been no cat/goat issues.  In my head, he sleeps curled up on the goat.

Dash (and his owner) bought their house about a month or so before we bought our place, so when we moved in Dash was still settling in.  He'd lived indoors his entire life before moving here.  His owner decided that now they aren't on a busy main road, it was safe for him to venture outside.  Funnily,  the few times I'd spotted a lady walking a cat around Western Springs - that was our now neighbour, and that was Dash.  Small world.  I laughed at them numerous times. 

So maybe this is karmic retribution for the mockery - since Dash and Huckle have settled into their new homes, they have become mortal enemies.

Before the first signs of violence I was super nice to Dash.  He's quite an affectionate cat, and his owner is lovely, so I often gave him pats on our shared driveway.  I was stupid, and even patted him on our property.  As soon as he started coming in and intimidating our pets though, Murray and I did our best to shoo him away, and rewarded him from being near his house by patting him there.

A common thing to see on returning home from work/visits/adventures is Dash at our gate staring in, and Huckle at our doorstep staring out.  The epic stare-off is common, battling cats less so - but vicious when it does occur.  The first fight we broke up sent fur flying, and when I tried to shoo Dash he did something I've never seen a cat do before - he attacked ME.  My foot was bitten to bleeding point.  I was shocked at the audacity of this animal.  His owner is lovely, but she used to be a cat-breeder, so this led me to wonder if Dash is just a cat version of a very spoilt child used to getting his own way.

We thought after one epic fight maybe that'd be it.  We had a few good weeks where Dash didn't even venture near our house after Murray squirted him with the hose.  We soon realised we'd been lured into a false sense of security when we started arriving home to find stand-off's in our driveway once again.  There has been evidence of fighting on Huckle, and several of us on our shared driveway have broken up cat fights or shut down cat smack talk.

But the recent encounter was by far the worst.  I was chilling out after yoga, and staying up later than usual because Kindergarten Cop was on (best Arnie movie ever!).  Huckle came inside and hopped on the couch for a cuddle.  I was patting him, and it wasn't until I saw blood on my hands that I noticed his ear.  Initially it looked like he just had a bad cut on it, then Huckle flicked his head and I noticed that the top of his ear was almost hanging off.  Every time he flicked it, it hurt, so he flicked it again, and then the ear would start bleeding again.  It was freaky.

I wasn't sure what to do - a sliced ear isn't life threatening, but Huckle was distressed, and it was distressing me.  Growing up on farms has made me kinda like an animal MacGyver.  I have performed several basic home animal surgeries (nothing as serious as amputations, fret not).  But in this instance the only thing I could think to do was either:
a) tape his ear

b) do nothing

Both of which seemed to me that they would stress an already stressed animal further, so I did what I've never done before: I called the emergency vet to ask for advice.  Of course they told me to bring him in.

$245 later... Huckle was high as a kite and full of antibiotics.  Definitely not something I could have done myself.  The pain relief meant he wouldn't flick his ear, which would let his ear heal, and the AB's will (hopefully) prevent any infection.  REALLY wish it didn't cost so much, but glad we took him in when we did otherwise I'm pretty sure neither Huckle nor myself would have slept that night.

Our neighbour came over to talk to us the next day, as she had witnessed and broken up the fight.  She wanted to check on Huckle as when she found them Dash had been on top of him, so she thought he'd likely taken the most severe beating (Dash was also injured, cut ear and weepy eye).  When we told her about his ear, she cried (she really loves cats).  We told her it wasn't her fault, and we weren't upset, but hoped to formulate a plan to aid prevention of further incidence - cats will be cats.  The the best thing about having nice and reasonable neighbours is that you can do things like this.  So we have a plan and open communication to brainstorm further solutions should the need arise.

We're keeping Huckle inside for a few days until his ear is a bit better, and besides resenting his incarceration, he's doing just fine.  Because I felt bad, I bought some dental cat treats yesterday which he LOVES (Roux is much less impressed).  Even Murray has felt bad, so has been sneaking him extra Hucklicious treats.  He's getting lots of love and cuddles, and is being ever so slightly mollycoddled.  Now I'll have have to be careful not to turn him into a spoilt house cat...   

Huckle high on cat drugs.