Beastliness
I have something else to say, but to start with: Blogger.com's upgrade sucks moose wang. I hate the idea of looking for a new online home, but this set of changes for the sake of change is among the most poorly thought-out upgrades ever executed. I feel evicted.
Meanwhile, let's start with the trials of Mr. Spike. the good news is that prednisolone has made a world of difference to our kitteh. When we got him on it, he was hardly eating at all, and that grudgingly. After three weeks of prednisolone gels applied to the inside of the ear, he's back to chomping down a cup or more of food daily. One begins to hope that inflammatory bowel disease, and not cancer, is the correct Dx.
Meanwhile. ancient Annie is not only blooming with the end of Spike's low-fat diet, she's actually growing pudgy. At 24, we can probably cut her some slack. The worst part of Spike's returning health is returning vigour. This is a cat, mind, who has always set limits on his hooman interaction. Being picked up has always been out of bounds. Hoomans messing with the sacred ears has been way out of bounds. Now, the price of survival is that he submit to both of these impositions twice a day. He doesn't like it, and he's getting strong enough to get his point across.
Well, cry me a fucking river, kitteh. One of my daily meds, Neurontin, is something like a partially-tamed wild horse. Most of the time, it quietly does its job. But sometimes, it will trot out one of the half page of side effects and
blindside you.
One of most singular is known to Neurontin users as "the goofies." It is a sense of disorientation, loss of focus and balance, that's rare (after a while) but totally random. The goofies came to visit today. It was as usual a few minutes before I realised what was happening. The disturbing part was that I was driving home from work at the time.
One puts up with this because of the benefits (so suck it up, Spike). This year, at least, the benefits include a winter breakthrough episode that only lasted four or five weeks. But as time goes by, Goofies are only one part of the price. The winter Beast was at least predictable. Lately, the visits are shorter, much shorter: sudden, random stabs that literally stop one in one's tracks, then subside. My homework tells me that a good many people with TN have similar experiences.
I feel Spike's pain, but with a smidge of impatience.
Meanwhile, let's start with the trials of Mr. Spike. the good news is that prednisolone has made a world of difference to our kitteh. When we got him on it, he was hardly eating at all, and that grudgingly. After three weeks of prednisolone gels applied to the inside of the ear, he's back to chomping down a cup or more of food daily. One begins to hope that inflammatory bowel disease, and not cancer, is the correct Dx.
Meanwhile. ancient Annie is not only blooming with the end of Spike's low-fat diet, she's actually growing pudgy. At 24, we can probably cut her some slack. The worst part of Spike's returning health is returning vigour. This is a cat, mind, who has always set limits on his hooman interaction. Being picked up has always been out of bounds. Hoomans messing with the sacred ears has been way out of bounds. Now, the price of survival is that he submit to both of these impositions twice a day. He doesn't like it, and he's getting strong enough to get his point across.
Well, cry me a fucking river, kitteh. One of my daily meds, Neurontin, is something like a partially-tamed wild horse. Most of the time, it quietly does its job. But sometimes, it will trot out one of the half page of side effects and
blindside you.
One of most singular is known to Neurontin users as "the goofies." It is a sense of disorientation, loss of focus and balance, that's rare (after a while) but totally random. The goofies came to visit today. It was as usual a few minutes before I realised what was happening. The disturbing part was that I was driving home from work at the time.
One puts up with this because of the benefits (so suck it up, Spike). This year, at least, the benefits include a winter breakthrough episode that only lasted four or five weeks. But as time goes by, Goofies are only one part of the price. The winter Beast was at least predictable. Lately, the visits are shorter, much shorter: sudden, random stabs that literally stop one in one's tracks, then subside. My homework tells me that a good many people with TN have similar experiences.
I feel Spike's pain, but with a smidge of impatience.
Labels: cats, Neurontin, trigeminal neuralgia
posted by Uncle | 00:27
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