Welcome back.

Hidey-ho, Internet. Hope you all have had an absolutely superb week since last I wrote. I was sort of in a funk for a couple of days there. More about that later. Anyways, my funk finally lifted last night, thanks to 5+ hours of laying on the couch with my DS. Having a boyfriend who didn't seem to mind that I needed him to cater to my every whim helped alot, too. Didn't say a word when asked if he could turn the TV volume up "just one notch. Really. Any more will be too loud. ONLY ONE NOTCH."

That's love.

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Wisconsin was fun. Just as I thought it would be. Of course, the fact that we were at a wedding helped alot, because weddings, for me, mean Bloody Marys. Bloody Marys in those skinny reception hall glasses are my Achille's Heel. Only this was Motherfuckin' WISCONSIN, yo, so those skinny reception glasses were actually gigantic tumblers of vegetably vodka goodness. What I'm trying to say is that the actual wedding itself is sort of a blur. What I do remember is that I tried my damnedest for the bouquet. Two girls I'd were in on the plan to catch the bouquet, and were ready to take down anyone that tried to stand in my way. But alas, this Wisconsin-bred Amazon that kept on shouting "IT'S MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!!" caught the bouquet instead, but not before I made a drunken move to grab it from her arms, which pretty much beheaded all of the flowers. So ha! A pile of stems doesn't count, Crazy!

There's only a little documentation of the event, and that's only because Steve's cousin and his fiance had the bright idea to bring a camera. I was too busy with my "liquid diet."

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I guess I should update about Babe now. I don't want to, because it makes me sad, but if I can't vomit up my feelings on the Internet, where can I go? Steve's already spending more quality time with himself and his Wii than usual because I'm such a fucking wreck over this. It's probably best I give him a break for the night.

The ER visit of last week was a from a reaction to some antibiotics Babe had been on. She's on antibiotics because about a week ago, Steve noticed a gigantic lump right between her shoulder blades. Turns out Babe has a golfball-sized tumor that seemed to pop up overnight. Her vet is really afraid that it's a particularly nasty tumor called a "vaccine-associated feline sarcoma." If any of you have cats, READ THIS. I didn't even know this existed. I'm not saying don't vaccinate your cats. I'm just asking you to find out EXACTLY what your cat is getting vaccinated for.

Anyways, because of the location of the tumor, and the fast rate that it grew (and continues to grow), Babe's vet is very, very concerned that this is the sort of tumor we're dealing with.

She's getting a biopsy next Wednesday. If they find out that's not what the tumor is, they'll probably just stitch her back up and keep an eye on it until it seems to change her quality of life in any way. If she does have a vaccine-associated sarcoma, chances are the tumor has been fanning out these little microscopic fingers through her tissue, which can only be fought with aggressive radiation.

Steve and I have decided we're not going to take that route if that's what we're dealing with. The first reason is that Babe will have to spend inordinate amounts of time in the hospital, and it's not like you can explain to a cat why you keep on taking her away from the home she loves, and to a scary hospital, where the radiation procedure will probably end up making her feel worse than she did in the first place. I don't want that. If she doesn't have much time with us, I want that time to be here with us. At home.

The second reason that we won't attack this tumor any further is that financially it will massacre us. We love our Blabe Blabe Flava Flave, but we have to be realistic about this. We've already spent over $500 just getting her to this point. It's just hard knowing that, sometimes, you can only do as much as your wallet will let you.

So that's that. I'm not the prayin' type, but please keep Babe in your thoughts if you can.