I had crazy dreams last night about missiles going off simultaneously all over the world. Some so close that I could see them fly over head and watch the fires they ignited burn and burn in my neighbor's back yards. I had this overwhelming feeling that I was safe at home despite the Armageddon going on all around me, and my home was filled with my family and my friends. There was a map of the United States painted on my garage door and random people were stopping as they fled to chart their courses.
What does this mean? It means that I have a great deal of anxiety (missiles) about our road trip (map) this weekend. I always get nervous to leave my home for any length of time, and more so now that I have to worry about my boys (my cats who really are more like my boys or at the very least more like dogs). It doesn't help matters at all that we are having, hopefully, a little health problem with one of them. This is another post entirely stored safely in the vault until I can really embrace the humor of the past couple days, but let me just share that I did give my cat a bath, or more like wrestled him in the laundry tub...baby shampoo and all...yesterday after he was so scared that he peed in his carrier on the way home from the vet. I don't know why I didn't think to take a picture of him in his soaked state.
I like to think we are still going, but I have yet to arrange for any one to come and care for my cats, which leads me to believe I know that it is not the most prudent decision. I really wish I could call my Mom right now because she would know what I should do. I was looking forward to this trip and I am not looking forward to telling my relatives that we cannot come because we have a sick cat. They don't even like cats so there's no way they will understand. Heck...they may not even believe me since we have been promising to make this trip for years and something always comes up. That's life! Life's a magazine...
One day at a time. I may have to take Peanut (no pun intended) back to the vet today. Oh Joy! If that is the case, my hubby is so coming home to help me otherwise the cat won't be the only one going on Prozac. The vet actually threw that out there as an option before even taking a blood sample from a cat with a fever. I am very thankful she's on vacation today so we can consult with someone more resourceful and knowledgeable. She spent more time talking about the fact that my cat needed to lose 2 pounds than the reason I brought him in, and then she charged me $89.
I'm trying to remind myself that these are small problems in the grand scheme of things...bumps in the road called life, but I cannot shake the feeling that I have hit one too many pot holes lately and I am yearning for some smooth sailing. It was only last night (and practically every night in the past week) that I fell asleep in the middle of praying for people, many of whom I don't even know, who need divine intervention more urgently than I. There is so much death and dying, so much cancer. There are so many young people with cancer. I pray for Stellan (http://www.mycharmingkids.net/) and for Kate (http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mcraekate) and for many others. So many others that I cannot keep my eyes open to get through all of the prayer requests I feel compelled to make. I feel ridiculous for praying that my Peanut gets well. In the words of David Sheff...
I pray even as the news in the papers makes my prayer seem insignificant in scale and wholly selfish. There is a devastating hurricane and flooding and suicide bombers and crashes and tsunamis and terrorism and cancer and war - endless and brutal war - disease and famine and earthquakes and everywhere there is addiction, and today the heavens must be overwhelmed with the noise of all the prayers.
Here is one more.
Please God heal Peanut and give me the strength to make it through just one more day. The strength to make it just one day at a time.
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