Saturday, 23 July 2016

You couldn't make it up.

Well, 2016 is certainly turning out to be quite an 'adventurous' year. But certainly not what I had anticipated. It's been a few weeks since I last posted a blog, but not because I had nothing to write about; quite the opposite.

Plan for May, June and July.

19th May Visit of Countess of Wessex, Cogges.
21st May Popstar Experience.
2nd June Exam
1st July 12 night Mediterranean Cruise.
19th July re-scheduled Popstar experience.

What actually happened.

As I've already written a blog about it, you know that the visit of the Countess of Wessex happened, and was a very special day. But then, first of all, my Popstar Experience was postponed. Due to 'unforseen circumstances', the camera man wasn't available, so it was mutually agreed that it wouldn't go ahead on the 21st and I re booked for a later date. So I threw myself into studying for my exam.

 My exam went well, in that I felt able to answer the questions, and I left the examination hall feeling quite euphoric. Things were a bit stressful as my hubby had resigned and we were trying to sell our house, but at least we had the cruise to look forward to.

Then on Tuesday 28th June, three days before we were due to go on our cruise, I went along to feed the cats at Cogges. Bonnie and Patsy, the two females were there, but Clyde, the young tom, wasn't. This wasn't unusual, as he was the one who was the least friendly and who tended to spend most of his time off hunting.

After I'd fed the other two, I made my way down from the loft above the stables where the cats live, only to see Clyde sitting on the grass a few feet away. As I approached him, instead of running away, as was his wont, he sat there meowing quite insistently. Then after a couple of minutes, he set off in the direction of the stables, stopping occasionally to look back, as if to check that I was following.

When he entered the loft, he made his way to the back of the room and sat down, completely ignoring the food I'd put down. By this time I was beginning to suspect that something was wrong. He let me get very close to him and I could see that his breathing wasn't right. I ran outside and called on one of my colleagues to come and give me her opinion. She agreed that he didn't seem right and that we should take him to the vet as soon as possible.

I stayed with him while she went to fetch a cat basket. I decided to try to get hold of him ready to put him in the basket. I picked up a large towel and put it over him and then proceeded to try and pick him up. Clyde wasn't used to being handled, plus we have since realised, he was in pain and probably feeling quite frightened. I wrapped him in the towel and picked him up. He struggled, but I held on to him tightly, but before I knew what was happening, he bit my right index finger twice and his claw pierced the back of my left hand. By this time, my colleague had appeared so we placed him in the basket and she hurried off with him, while I wrapped my finger, which was bleeding quite profusely, in the towel, and followed on behind.

I stopped briefly in Reception to put an elastoplast on my hands. Meanwhile, the Director of Cogges, who had looked in the basket, set off quickly on foot to the vet, saying that speed was of the essence. I followed on, but when we got to the vet, who was only a few minutes walk away, it was too late, Clyde was gone. The vet thought that he'd suffered some kind of trauma and that he'd had a clot which had entered either his heart or his lungs and that was what had killed him. This was obviously a great shock, but what was to follow was an even bigger one.

On the advice of the vet, I took myself off to minor injuries where they washed out the wounds and dressed them. Meanwhile, the emergency paramedic who was treating me had contacted the hospital and they told her to start me on a course of antibiotics and tell me to report to the hospital at 10am the following morning.

What followed next took me completely by surprise, by 4pm on the Wednesday I was wearing a hospital gown and those lovely surgical stockings, and being wheeled into theatre to have an operation, under a general anaesthetic, to cut open my finger and the back of my left hand, so they could be deeply cleaned, or debrided, the technical term, as both had become infected. In fact, by the time I was taken to theatre, I could see the infection tracking up my arm and it had almost reached my elbow.

Unfortunately, because of this we had to cancel our cruise, for the next to weeks, instead of sailing around the Mediterranean and soaking up the sun, I was visiting the hospital and my GP and having my hubby act as my nurse, helping me to redress my wounds. Over two weeks later, I'm still having to redress them daily. They're getting better, but I'm still feeling a bit emotional and shocked by this turn of events.

When my hubby was telling a work colleague about it, she said, "You couldn't make this up." I wish I was writing about it as fiction, but unfortunately it is true.

We did manage to get away for the weekend to the Isle of Wight and are hoping to go away for a week later on. It won't be the cruise, but I'm thankful that I'm still here. Apparently cat bites are even worse than dog bites.

Has this accident put me off cats? No way. It wasn't his fault and if either Bonnie or Patsy ever have to go the vet, I would do the same thing again, only this time I'd make sure I had a pair of thick gloves on. After all, better safe than sorry.

This is no where near the worst experience I've ever had, but it's certainly been the most bizarre one.

During this time, I found out that I'd passed my exam, but didn't feel much like celebrating.

At least I had my Popstar experience to look forward to-right? Wrong. On the morning of July 19th,
I received an email from Songmaker to say that when they'd gone into the studio that morning, they had discovered that their mixing desk had blown and that they were having to re-schedule all their appointments for that day. As I've said, you couldn't make this stuff up. The good news is, not only are they giving me an extra hour free when, or if, I get round to doing it, they are also going to set it up in one of their recording studios in Oxfordshire, so I won't have to trail up to London.

I don't know what lesson I'm supposed to be learning, but I'll be glad when this year is over.

What's going to happen next? Watch this space, who knows? I certainly don't!

Photos Isabel's own, except the popstar experience, courtesy of :-

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