So I just did my craft show yesterday and it went well. I didn’t even come close to selling out, but that was a bit ambitious. I spent a lot of late nights preparing and a lot of energy stressing about it all, so I was too tired to go out to dinner. I was really, and I mean REALLY looking forward to a nice long night of uninterrupted sleep. But no, it was not to be. The Tot-inator went off at 3am. Very insistent for mommy. I stumbled up the stairs in the dark and found my little bump on the floor, and oh man – she was burning up AGAIN. 103.7°. I slept on the floor with her on her insistence while she ranted about strange things involving poo. I’m not sure if she was having nightmares or if she was delirious, but she clung to me and it broke my heart that she was so miserable. I woke up stiff as a board, and she woke up surprised that her bunny wasn’t covered in poo.
She just had a fever last weekend that lasted until Tuesday. At her checkup last week, I had mentioned that she wakes up a lot at night asking for water, and described her latest fever. Dr.Bill pointed out that her repeated fevers with no other symptoms might be UTIs although she tested negative for that in February she scared us so badly. So a urine test will help figure out whether UTIs or diabetes might be the culprit. I highly doubt she has diabetes as Dr.Bill says kids get sick quick with that, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she has low blood sugar without diabetes. She was fine all day, but I figure I’ll be in a Tot-lock again tonight, though I think I’ll insist on sleeping in bed this time. And tomorrow will be fun with teaching Tot to pee in a cup. Wish me luck….
Meanwhile the kitchen is still non-existent, and the Pickle-puss is back to life-and-death matches with Dillon, Dr.Bill’s wife’s cat. Whiney Bits and Devil cat occasionally sink their teeth and claws in a little Dillon flesh as well, but Pickles is the head gate keeper and Dillon-basher. One $400+ vet bill later, and we’re considering pseudo-adopting Dillon, in order for our cats to think they all share our yard and the surrounding territories. I’m tired of living with war-torn kitties yowling, hissing, growling, sometimes at me, as I try to prevent more trips to the vet. Somtimes I just make it worse as Dillon runs off and Pickles, not about to let him get away, tears after him and takes him down in a blur of rolling kicking fur with peddling claws and teeth. Can’t we all just get along? Jeepers.