a little help

Wow this sucks. My cat(Max) got sick last night just after I got home from curtailed errands. Errands cut short because my car (Mo) is officially squirrely and last night was one of its less fine moments.

At some point, I think I am going to have to face it that my car's electrical system is just sort of, well, fucked. I say this since trips to the mechanic involve increasingly familiar reports like "this wire's insulation is gone, that connection was corroded, this one worked when we hooked it up to the machine but didn't when it wasn't...we think it's 'cause our connection was grounding it..." I'd say I've been putting it off except that would imply there was a fixable issue or that I could afford to replace the non-fixable issue (the car). So far, neither is the case.

I got home at about 8:30 to Max having some kind of breathing/choking fit (no it wasn't a hair ball) that went on and on and on. I called the vet and we decided it would be best for him to be seen soon since it seemed he was having breathing problems.

Ok, so I run (limp quickly) over to A___'s apartment to get Max's carrier, start up Mo the car to bring it around to the entrance of the building so I don't have to heft my 18 lb cat too far. Mo had to be coaxed into starting, surged when it finally turned over, then BANG, grind...Mo didn't want to go, not one bit.

I called (and called and called) anyone I thought could possibly be helpful, even people I don't like a whole lot. Then I cried because no one was available. My sister and A___ at least answered my calls but there is precious little they could do from states away. The locals were not taking calls. Keep in mind that there is no public transportation and there are no taxi services out here in the middle of fucking nowhere CT.

About an hour after all this began, my friend M___ finally answered what I think was my third phone call, saying "Oh, I'm sorry I missed (all of) your calls..." He was really sweet though, drove the 25 miles of dark twisty country road from where he lives to my place, carried the 18 lb cat out to his car, and even went in with me to the vet.

M___'s never had a cat and can be a nervous driver, so this late night trip with my cat HOWLing in the backseat was probably a little bit harrowing for him I'm sure. Add to that my singing to the cat (we settled on "I will survive") and it may rank up there as one of those "worst things I had to do for a friend" moments for him. It wasn't that bad as far as bad things go, but, well, I have learned to assume moderate to high levels of sheltered in terms of life experiences of many of my fellow grad students.

The vet was nice, gave Max shots and did an x-ray. Max is still sick but not terrible. His lungs looked ok, but the vet said it might have been an asthma attack. More reason to move since now not only does the mold of the rotting (still not fixed) ceiling make me sick, it may be making my cat ill too . Max spent most of the day resting under my desk, but he hasn't had the scary fit like he was having last night.

And today, my car wouldn't start. A___'s not back until Wednesday night, I've got an appointment for Monday to bring my car in but it will have to be towed and I have no ride back from the garage (which is, like everything out here, far away), and no ride to go get it when they are done.

So all in all, this sucks in a big sucky way. Several years ago, I made a new year's resolution that I would learn how to accept help from others because I was so bad at it I would rather hurt myself than ask. I have spent the last few years with a string of obstacles that require me to ask again and again for all sorts of help from people around me. I see this as one of life's little ironies. Sort of like young jeremy finding 2/3rds of a $20 bill while down and out and needing money. It's one of those nasty jokes of fate that makes you want to believe in a god so you can go into a church and scream "ENOUGH, you fuck!"