In which I continue to feel utterly overwhelmed.
If you’re a regular here at the ‘box, you know I tend to keep y’all updated on the state of my uterus (because I’m nothing if not totally dedicated to delivering you riveting content). Well, right now it’s doing its thing: trying to make me wish I were dead. I’m in pain, I’m not feeling particularly sharp, and I wish I were lying down. I’m full of ibuprofen. That in and of itself is hardly pleasant, but let’s add some additional stressors, shall we?
I had two full-blown oh my god, this is it, I’m really finally dying of a fucking heart attack panic attacks Monday, in honor of my oncoming menses. Worst I’ve had in months and months and months. In addition, I’ve been having arrhythmia off and on since my PMS started. My hormones? So whacked. And in tandem with my stress level? Ugh. Just kill me now. When did I get so goddamned sensitive? Christ.
Last night, instead of going out with Gorgeous and Raybo like I wanted to, I went home just as if I were some kind of responsible adult or something. I even went to bed at a reasonable hour. Go, me.
Aaaaaaaaaand, I didn’t sleep. I just laid there. Listened to my iPod for awhile, read for awhile, got up and had a glass of water, went back to bed.
Around midnight, I noticed that Stella was still panting. The other two dogs weren’t because I had a fan running and it wasn’t particularly hot. After listening to her shift and pant and pant and shift for half an hour, I rolled off the bed onto the floor to give her some lovin’. I think she’s got a little bit of The Arthur in her old age, and I thought maybe her joints were hurting her and that a nice rub would feel good.
So I put her head on my leg and massaged her legs one by one, and then I noticed she felt pretty warm, as if she were running a slight temperature. And then I found the cyst on her ear.
Ah, crap. The thing is massive. This is exactly par for the course, the way things have been going lately.
I got up, turned on the light, and checked it out. There’s a huge blister in her ear, and the thing has at least an ounce of fluid in it. It’s under the fine skin of the inside of her floppy dog ear. I manipulated it a bit, trying to see if it was the result of some kind of cut or bite, but the skin of the entire ear appeared to be unbroken and it didn’t seem to hurt her much, if at all.
I decided to lance it, and went about the house — in the middle of the goddamned night, mind you — getting towels, rubbing alcohol, a needle, antibacterial soap, and neosporin. I fed her a third of an aspirin, put Bindu and Shiva out to get ’em out of the way, and sat down and cleaned the whole ear. Then I realized one doesn’t puncture these things with a needle, one needs a blade. A very, very sharp blade. Because what if the fluid inside the cyst is too viscous to exit through a tiny puncture? Well then, it seems to me that instead of releasing the pressure you’ve just increased the chances of infecting it even more by introducing a wound and possible germs from the skin. Ugh.
So I texted Raybo, ’cause she’s a nurse, to see if I was right about this lancing thing. I didn’t call her because it was already 12:30 and I didn’t want to wake her in case she’d already crashed. Then I finished lovin’ on Stella and put my ass back to bed. It took another hour or so to fall asleep. (I heard my phone chirp around 2:30 when she called back, bless her, but since I had to get up at 6:30 I didn’t get it. It took me awhile to get back to sleep again anyway.)
So 6:30 rolls around and I hit snooze because I’ve slept maybe 4 hours and I have cramps and I’m fuckin’ groggy, damn it. Then I hit snooze again ten minutes later, and again ten minutes later. Finally I got up at 7:00, brushed my hair, found something to wear, fed the dogs and cat, watered everybody, put in some earrings, gave Shiva his benadryl and Stella her aspirin, found some notepaper, made sure I had a pen, and drove to town in ten minutes flat. (Which means I ran 60-70 MPH most of the way. Go, me.)
Parked, walked into WGC, registered for Xactimate basic training. Found out I was actually twenty minutes early, left for coffee and to move the car so I wouldn’t have to feed the meter every two hours.
Now I’m sitting in the classroom at one of their computers — Bread has the laptop in Indy — and thank God it has Internet access so I can blog. The break’s almost over, so I suppose I should post this and go back to taking notes. After all, I do intend to teach this class eventually.
(I just overheard a WGC employee telling another student that the next basic adjusting course is tentatively scheduled for August 28th. “Tentatively?” the student said. “Well, yeah. If there’s a big hurricane, all your instructors will be out adjusting and the class will be cancelled.” They so need me here. I’d much, much rather hang out in a climate-controlled room with computers and projectors and indoor plumbing than climb about on roofs. Seriously. Roofs are not only high, they’re hot as hell.)
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and the cyst? what happened to the cyst?
curse you for leaving me hanging like this!
*smooches for the pooches*
Sorry! It’s still there. I’m gonna try and figure out how to deal with it after class. Between Raybo and my midwife I think I should be able to get the thing lanced in a sterile and professional manner, but if she’s really running a temperature I may end up taking her to the vet for antibiotics even though I don’t have the money. -m
is it the same cyst that she has had for years or a new one? brett
It’s a new one. Same ear, though, but doesn’t seem to be related to the existing one. -m
I think you can perform the lancing rather successfully, it’s as you suggest, that she may need antibiotics. I’d probably lance the thing, give her asprin and see if she still feels warm the next day. If so, it may be vet time.
Oh, and Yay for a/c and internet access!
She ends up on antibiotics every time she goes to the vet, but maybe removing the cyst will be enough. Plus I haven’t actually taken her temp yet, she might not have a fever. I hope. -m
bigger than the 1st?
Yes. The first is still a hard little pea. This one is lower, and contains a lot of fluid. The area is also warmer than the surrounding flesh. It doesn’t seem to bother her, but you know how she likes to get infections all the time. -m
Doubt that the fever, if it exists, and the cyst are related.
Cysts are a skin thing and seldom if ever, cause internal problems. (From both my reading and from my expirience since I had two removed while in Maz that I had had for years). I also had a huge one I got on my leg when I was in the Navy. I didn’t trust the ships medicos so I lanced it myself and squirted some antibiotic in the loose skin. No problem. Ain’t dead yet.
Assuming the mutt doesn’t have a fever, just lance it, and dab some neosporin (any cream antibiotic) inside the pouch of skin. Then cover. Don’t need to take the dog to the vet.
Good series of points, except she’s a dog. Which means open wounds will get dirty, which is why they tend to put ’em on antibiotics when they have open wounds, like after a lancing. I may get help lancing it if that’s what Bread wants and then just keep an eye on her and keep it super clean. -m
sounds like a bite or thorn or something i would go to tsc and get some bag balm or something like it lance that fucker and slather it in bag balm but toby ray would be someone good to check with
I couldn’t find any wound at all. I think she’s just cysty by nature. But yeah, I’m gonna try and get someone to help me lance it – someone with a really sharp blade of some kind. -m
if you need any help let me know.
If you want any veggies let me know too.
You’re awesome. And I’d love some veggies! -m
may be back in town tonight bsh mom is in hospital not good
I’ll call you asap. -m
I love the wounded look a dog gives when you ‘take their temperature.’
Best wishes.
Dude, that’s just not right. That you love that look. *chuckle* -m
B-t-y, Not that I’ve forgotten or anything but YOU ARE NOT DYING OF A FUCKIN’ HEART ATTACK.
You just have the Morgan heart. It does flippity flops and thumpity thumpities naturally. Even when there is no stress around. It will pass in a few years. Not to worry, you’ll die of something else, at around 90 yo. (Hah!) Oh, and the panic attacks you’re having would be because you’re stressed, don’t try to relate them to the heart thumpities. I always liked the sweats during the thumpities though. Kinda miss those.
Luv ya!
Luv you too, pop. -m
i have nothing of interest to say and know nothing about the cyst, although I could tell you a boring story about how I had a cyst when I was travelling alone in Thailand and became obsessed with it and nearly went completely insane (not really an exaggeration–after I got it lanced at the hospital, I was somehow convinced that it was going to get re-infected, and became totally obsessed with not letting it get re-infected, and so I literally lay in bed in my guest-house cubicle for two weeks (whenever I wasn’t obsessively cleaning the hole), and as there was no one to talk to, I was able to work myself up into a fine state of total-break-with-reality).
The point of this comment is just to say that even though I have nothing to say, I’m still reading, still with you, and rooting for you totally. If I were nearby I would definitely bring you onions and coffee. And some goood vodka. I’m not sure how I’d get them there from here though.
Hang in there dearie!
Like everybody else here, I’m obsessed about the cyst. You gotta blog it when it happens. I want details, Dr. Goblinbox. Did the fluid drain easily? Was there a solid mass in there? Was the puss clear or yellowish? Did it smell of rot? Did it tast of white blood cells? Etc?
Ick you guys. Just ick.
Oh, and my navy story? It wasn’t a cyst, it was a boil. A fine, large, glistening boil. Took about a pound of toilet paper to clean up all the pus that came out of it. Ick.