cat surgery   Chris and I are fighting. My cat, 7, is sitting in on a high window ledge in the kitchen. Somehow the window behind her breaks and she falls from the ledge to the floor. She yelps and limps away. It looks like one of her legs has been cut off. I catch her to inspect her wound and see that her leg is still there, but it is broken and bleeding badly.

Chris gets the cat carrier, and we put her inside. He calls the vet to find out where the pet emergency room is and the receptionist puts him on hold for a long time. Finally we leave. We have to walk there, and the streets look like streets in Colorado Springs, not New York. It is summer, sunny, and hot.

We arrive at the pet hospital. A receptionist who looks like my dead grandmother, Elinor, ushers us inside. She tells me I've been terribly irresponsible. Chris takes the cat into the operating room where my stepmother, Linda, is the surgeon. I'm still out in the waiting room and I see Matt there. I try not to look at him and he tries not to look at me, but he seems kind of amused by everything. Chris is really angry that he's there.

I go into the operating room where everyone is gathered around a big monitor where the surgery is being shown. The surgeon says something about a floating bone ring needing to be removed, and she shows me her arm. Pushing on the skin around her elbow, a small hard circle appears under her skin and she pushes it up the length of her arm and finally out through her fingertips.

I leave. I am walking in the street with a six pack of these little quarter sugary drinks that come in little plastic barrels with foil tops. I keep dropping them in the road. I am walking toward a yellow car that seems stalled and there are two men sitting in the front seat. (2002-03-20)
posted by yzzordorex on 2002-03-20
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