Battling Bacteria

Good gawd what a week. Is it over yet?

Don't lie to me.. I can take it.

Yesterday alone contained a week's worth of aggravation. By the time it was done, all I could do was lay on the couch and stare at the television, watching "Take the Lead" with Antonio Banderas. At least I think that's what it was called. It's not a great movie, but honestly.. Banderas could sit on a metal barrel in the center of an old abandoned junk yard and recite the wiring instructions for an army tank and I'd sit and listen. The movie has been on cable a few times in the past week, but I either don't catch it until the end or fall asleep half way through it. I originally saw it on the plane during the return trip from Vegas, when I went to see Craig Ferguson this summer.

That sounds all high fallootin' don't it? "On the return trip from Vegas..."

And yet.. yesterday I was rolling pennies to go through the drive thru at Wendy's.

It really began on Wednesday when Ma called me at work, convinced that Sammy, the Boston Baked Beagle had some form of cancer and was going to die. By the time I got off work, she had my nerves worked into such a tizzy that I all I could do was sit on the couch and cry. I knew he had a really bad skin rash and needed to be seen by the vet, but I had to wait until I got paid. Our vet doesn't let anyone make payments or anything and I was flat assed broke.

Yesterday morning when I got to work, I called the vet and asked if I could post date a check and bring my little bald beagle butt in and they kindly agreed. I was just starting to feel a little better and less guilty when Ma called again to tell me that if they put him on Interferon (sp?) like the cat we'd had years ago, just to let them put him down, that he shouldn't have to suffer. I snapped and told her he had a RASH for gawds sake .. from a skin allergy and I SERIOUSLY DOUBTED they'd put him down for that. I then told her that I understood that she was concerned but I was going to need for her to shut the fuck heck up because she was making me physically ill with the undue stress she was causing.

Having cleared all that up, I started trying to figure out how I was going to put gas in the hippy van. I am that broke. Thank goodness today's payday.

Before lunch, Thelma from across the hall came in and said her daddy had brought us some nice ripe strawberries and they were up by the coffee pot. Her daddy is a truck driver and occasionally brings us goodies, which may or may not be legal. I can't turn down ripe strawberries though, so I made a beeline for the coffee pot and selected a nice, fat, red berry. After rinsing it quickly under the faucet in the ladies room, I took a big bite. It was so good it made chills run down my back. I returned to my desk and got back to work, but a few minutes later I got a call from Lulu.

"Did you see those strawberries?" she asked.

"Uhhh huh! They're good too."

"Oh no.. you didn't eat any did you?"

"Well yeah.. why?"

"Go up there and look at them."

Dang. I got up and walked back over to the coffee pot and glanced in the plastic container. The top layer of berries was gone, probably taken by the managers after their morning meeting. What was left in the bottom of the shallow plastic box was a mass of fuzzy green and purple growth where there were once strawberries. It was the nastiest looking, oozing, mushy mess I've ever seen. Gnats were already swarming. There was a stench rising from the container like a vile green cloud of toxic waste.

Within seconds I was in the ladies room, with multiple trips to follow throughout the morning. I'm not sure if it was the bacteria berry or just the thought that I'd eaten something from that container.

It was not pleasant.

I stopped at the store on the way home for lunch and wrote a bad check for some Cokes for Ma. Hopefully I can get my check to the bank today before it clears. I ran home and rolled pennies so that I'd have some cash to stop at Wendy's and pick up something for dinner.. oh and I promised Sammy I'd buy him some fries if he was good at the vet. Yeah I know, the dog had no clue what I was saying, but it helped to ease my guilt a bit.

After I came back to work for a couple of hours, I ran back home to pick up Sammy and off we went to Scary Hillbilly Town. He's such a good dog. He was standing there on the exam table with his scabby skin, sores and baldness around his eyes, licking the vet and wagging his tail as the vet scrapped his sores with a razor blade to get a skin sample so he could check him for mange. Some comments were made about my letting it go for so long before bringing him in, but I pointed out that it was their policy against any form of credit that kept me from coming in sooner, not my negligence.

Anyways.. Sammy got all his regular shots, plus a steroid shot and some antibiotics. It turns out that I was right, it was just a skin allergy which had become turbo charged. I got home, handed Ma her cheeseburger and baked potato and gave Sammy the fries I'd promised him. Ma looked at me and said, "Well it could have been worse.. you could have had to have him put down."

I just looked at her and said, "Yeah whatever. Eat your mooburger."

Today's payday. The dog will be fine. It's Friday. I'm counting my blessings.

Ya'll be blessed.