Hercules is okay, but apparently he has a stressful life.

A housecat with a stressful life??? Yeah, go figure.

He has feline ulcerative colitis. So he was sent home with instructions not to "stress him out" and I have pills and prescription cat food to give him.

So last night, Dave and I get the poor kitty rolled up into a towel, pinned on the living room floor and pop the first pill in his mouth. Apparently it's quite bitter, so Hercules crushes it, and promptly starts to drool and froth at the mouth. I got as much of the powder in as I could, and got the second one down his throat no problem. Poor guy was thrashing his head around like a patient in a straight jacket.

Then we gave him his wet cat food. Poor cat had to growl at Simon to keep him away from "his" food. (Simon is a whore for wet catfood.)

Poor baby - don't stress your cat out, but force feed him 2 pills, one of which is very bitter and then make him fight for his special food.

It's about enough to give me ulcers.

(Kidding, only kidding.)

But I do feel badly for my baby boy. I would gladly trade places with him, have the life of leisure and no apparent worries at all. With all the bullshit lately I'm the one that should have ulcers.

I did doctors today. It was a doctor filled day all damned day. Three doctors, one right after the other.

The news was not good, but I'm totally not in the mood to talk about it right now, still kind of trying to digest what I was told, and try to figure out how my body has betrayed me so badly at the young age of 30. I do need to get it out of my system, but I'm just not quite ready to do so yet.

Maybe tomorrow.

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