I mean, it wasn’t the roughest week in the world.

On a scale of “For all that is fucking holy, the pandemic is never going to end” to “Trump gets the 2024 nomination” it was about a “The grocery store is too fucking crowded and why aren’t those people wearing masks?”

Our black kitty, Alfie, is a wheezy cat. He’s always snored a little, but the snoring has gotten worse. Sometimes, he snores when he’s awake. So, I made a vet appointment for  him.

A few months prior, I had taken Gertie to the vet.

She had developed the charming habit of scooting her fuzzy little kitty butt on the rug in Joey’s room.

Turned out she had a tapeworm. Poor baby girl .

Anyway, the morning of Alfie’s appointment, Joey came to me all concerned.

Joey: Mom, there’s something wrong with Gertie’s butt.

Me: Fucking hell. What is it?

Joey: It just looks swollen and red and infected or something.

So, I called the vet and swapped out the appointment from Alfie to Gertie.

Joey rode with me to the vet. They have a pretty good setup, only one patient at a time. You call them when you get there and they call you back when it’s safe to go in.

While we waited for our callback, Joey fussed at me.

Joey: Mom, you have to hold the carrier from underneath.

Me: No you don’t, it’s fine. The handle is fine.

Joey: Do you think she can get out?

Me:…

Then the vet called. I managed to carry Gertie in without dropping her or her pulling a Houdini.

Gertie wasn’t happy, but she submitted. She kind of looked like she was trying to do an impression of a bearskin rug.

The vet and the technician checked her out.

Vet: Ummm…what exactly do you think is wrong with her butt?

Me: Yeah, I uh, I’m not sure. I didn’t look at it.

We all had on masks, but that didn’t stop me from reading the expression on both their faces which said “Are you, perhaps, a dumbass?”

Me: My son said she needed to be looked at. I didn’t give a second opinion.

Then, it occurred to me that I had only brought Gertie into this practice twice and both times I wanted them to look at her butt.

Crap. They’re going to think I’m some weirdo fetishist. “Here, look at my cat’s butt. Look at it. Take my money, but look at her butt.”

Vet: That is one healthy cat butt.

Me: Okay then, thank you. We’ll ummm…be back next week with our other cat. His butt is fine I mean, I assume it’s fine. I’ll ask my son.

Because that sounds less weird. 

So, Gertie was traumatized for absolutely nothing and I paid double the vet bill.

I told Joey he was going to be that parent who had his kid in the emergency room every other day.

I am glad he didn’t inquire as to how often I took him to the doctor or hospital. To be fair to my son, if he does do that, then he comes by it honestly.

But Gertie wasn’t the only one who had to make an unexpected trip to the doctor.

I have reached the age where I can injure myself by sleeping. Or breathing.

You guys, I hurt my upper back bad. Either the injury was so horrific I blocked it, or I hurt myself while sleeping. I called my doctor last Monday for a video appointment. He prescribed some drugs and sent me to the hospital for an x-ray.

The trip to the hospital was no fun. There wasn’t a position I could get in to that gave me relief. Getting the x-rays was no better. At one point, I had to take my mask off  and open my mouth as wide as I could so that she could get a good shot of the vertebrae in my neck. Which seems odd to me. I think she was just fucking with me.

Anyway, the official diagnosis was a pinched nerve. I’m feeling much better now, but those first few days were rough.

When we got back from the hospital, Gertie jumped up on the bed with me. Gertie is my scaredy cat, and it’s always nice when she comes to visit. She let me pet her a little before settling down on a pillow. I told her all about my back and how much it hurt.

Gertie has a naturally melancholy face, but in that moment, she seemed a little extra pensive.

She seemed to say “Unless they stuck their finger in your butt? I don’t want to hear about it.”