kasey (allthingsshiny) wrote,

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rant about high heels and gomers

So I have this absolute favorite pair of shoes. the perfect black heels, round toe, sexy-not-slutty, went with everything shoes. A while back, while standing on a street corner near Alta having a cell phone conversation with bigbrother, the heel bent in a way heels shouldn't bend. My shoe was broken, and I mourned greatly.

This pair of shoes I carried around in my car for months, because I couldn't bear to throw them away. This morning, while out buying hair dye and insulin, i passed a small shop i never noticed before. The sign - "Shoe Repair", and the smaller sign, "open".

The car goes into a parking space and i trot inside carrying my sexy broken shoes. "Can you help me?" I say. "The heel broke and I really want to save these shoes."

Shoe-repair guy looks at my beloved shoes for 2.2 seconds. "No, no. The shank is broken. Very very hard to fix. No."

"But, I really want this shoe fixed," I beg. "How much would it cost?"

"No, no. You better off buying new ones. Too hard to fix."

In my car, I think. If the shoe guy won't fix it, and thinks that the shoe is beyond repair, then what's the harm in taking the shoe apart and seeing if i can't find a way to duct tape/staple gun/knit it back together to get a few more wears out of it. I pull the inner sole piece out and look at the guts of my shoe.

The shank is fine. Totally intact. It has simply become disconnected from the structure that forms the heel. Nothing I can't fix with a drill, some long screws, and a cordless screwdriver. I would have been happy to pay this guy far more than what the shoes are worth to have them fixed. Had he taken the time to actually look at the shoes and find out what was wrong with them, he could have charged me whatever he wanted, and i would have happily paid it. Jackass. Now he gets no money and i get to teach myself home shoe repair.

It was gomer night again at the hospital. We're dropping about one a night, but have several life-support types still hanging on.
Michael was talking a while ago about a doctor's comment in the ICU at the human hospital. The comment was, "In this case, death is not the worst possible outcome." That's how I feel about two of the creatures I was taking care of last night. The same cocker I talked about yesterday, and a kitty named Kitters who shouldn't be forced to keep fighting any more. Kitters has renal lymphoma. Kitters also has a feeding tube and no will to live. Jessey the cocker spaniel also now has a feeding tube, a central line, and two different types of sedatives flowing into his veins to control the twitching and screaming.

These patients are demoralizing. There's little i can do except prolong the death and try to keep them comfortable. I get the feeling that no matter what I do to help these patients, i'm just extending the suffering. And the owners won't let go.

The one other kitty I really had time to work with has some weird disease that is making his feet swell up, and he has ulcers in his mouth that make eating impossible. He also has a feeding tube. He is a very sweet kitty, and i hope he makes it through his strange disease.

I hope I'm never so deluded that I try to put any of my creatures through anything like that.

Two days off, and I think today's plan is to sleep (soon), and re-dye my hair. I'm deplorably faded. I was going to go to a club tonight, but i haven't heard back from my club-going companion, and i doubt i'll have the energy. maybe next week.

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