I went to see the local foot specialists one last time before going to Langhorne. They took one look at my ulcer, and went bonkers on me.
It is leaking joint fluid.
That could be very bad – infection bad –
bone infection bad.
They said “Hospital – now!”
I said “No, hospital Monday. I have no way to get there now. The laundry's not done, I'm not packed, and Rufus isn't boarded until Sunday. I can't leave him alone all weekend; he'll loose his little mind!”
They said “Then you must see the Infectious Disease doctor!” (Doesn't that bring to mind a guy in a white lab coat, just bubbling over with germs and virus and boils and stuff? Gag!)
I said “OK, but I have one nerve left. After that, I snap!”
I went home and called my surgeon. He called back and said “Don't freak, Kat. I know all about it. We'll do tests on Monday, and everything possible to save your leg.”
Sigh. I felt better.
Dr. “Control Freak” meet Katharine “OCD.”
The weekend has flown by, and I find it hard to sleep. It's 2am Monday morning. Rufus is safely with his groomer, and my sister will come to take me to hospital in 9 hours.
So, then, the time has come. For all those who have visited with me, made me laugh, and are sending me off with healing energy, white light and prayers, I am truly blessed to have your support and love.
For the two folks who were so negative and self-absorbed they couldn't take the high road and wish me well, I'm sending that energy right back at ya.
I forgive you, and hope the Lords of Karma will be kind regarding your decisions, but it's time to make way for new friends, fresh ideas, and the start of a new phase of my life.
Onward through the fog!!!
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