Wow, I haven't written in nearly two months! Yikes! I hope no one has forgotten me!

These past two months have been, well, normal. Zena went bunny hunting over Memorial Day weekend (May 29/30). Let's just say Little Bunny Foo Foo and Peter Rabbit went frolicking in the wrong garden that weekend. She brought one home May 29 and May 30th. Now, as ~-stimpy and a few others have heard, there's a story that involves Peter Rabbit. On Saturday afternoon, May 30, 2009, I was about ready to take Zena for her daily stroll when I heard her whining. Normally, when she's whines a great deal, she's trying to find a hiding spot for one of her beloved toys or her chew. As you may have guessed, I opened my bedroom door and saw two little bunny ears so I naturally assumed to was trying to find a spot to hide her toy Little Bunny Foo Foo. I told her to drop it so I could hide it for her when I noticed that the toy bounced. Stuffed squeaky toys do not bounce. I screamed when I finally realized Zena had unceremoniously dropped a real, dead, bona fide rabbit in the middle of my parents' bedroom doorway. How the hell Zena managed to sneak in a dead rabbit without anyone noticing, I have no idea (even to this day). I had to bribe her away from Peter with a treat and tell my dad that Zena had lovingly dropped a dead bunny in his doorway while I gave Zena a treat and strapped on her harness and leash for a walk so he could dispose of the body.

Now, we don't condone her hunting bunnies as she's A) bred to hunt rabbits down, B) we have a bit of a bunny epidemic here in the neighborhood and C) these bunnies love to taunt Zena. We actually tend to praise her when she's brings one down. We just prefer to keep the dead animals outside the house, not inside so my dad can take care of them. I don't do dead animals. My dad was the one who buried my guinea pigs in the backyard, not me. Zena was mighty pleased of herself with killing two bunnies in two days though.

Other than that, Zena has been doing pretty well. She got a bath today as she decided to roll in stinky mud (ich). There's been a lot of walks, some tranquilizers given when thunderstorms decided to roll into my area, lots of loving, lots of sleeping and lots of playing. If only my life were that simple. Wouldn't it be great?

Let's see, what else? Friday we had this massive thunderstorm in my area. We've been getting so much rain, my street flooded on Friday! My street became a creek! For those of you who are wondering why this is so noteworthy, I live in a very hilly area far away from the watershed in my area. It's like San Francisco of the Midwest with a population of 25,900 people. We do not flood in my area in terms of the grass being a pond or the street becoming a creek. It was quite monumental. It was all gone when I woke up on Saturday, thankfully, as it was hot!

My dad had a good Father's Day on Sunday, I did not. I woke up with excruciating pain in my left hip. The pain was so bad I was crying. I have a very high threshold for pain due my Cerebral Palsy and I was crying. My mom drove me to the emergency room. My mom was basically in déjà vu land. Basically, when I was four-years-old, I woke up screaming in pain and my mom rushed me to the hospital when the doctors found out I had a septic hip (infection on my hip bone). I had surgery to scrape out the infection on my left hip and I had a tube in my hip to drain the rest of the infection out for awhile. I have no memory of how painful it was as I had fainted from the pain. My mom basically feared that the infection came back. Two-and-a-half hours, three state-of-the-art X-Rays, six vials of blood, a series of blood tests and one hospital strength Ibuprofen later, I was discharged with a note to follow up with my doctor and a possible diagnosis of arthritis in my hips. All my X-Rays and blood tests came back clean so no infection.

The hospital I went to treated me very well. I guess that's the kind of service you get when you're in an Emergency Room in a wealthy neighborhood. The Emergency Room is set up into three sections--the waiting room, the Triage Nurse room, and the actual ER. There are receptionists--not nurses--in the waiting room and it's furnished with very comfortable leather (not pleather) chairs, wooden tables and rather expensive lamps. The Triage Nurse Area is on the right and it separates the waiting room from the ER. It has a bed, blood pressure/pulse machine and everything in it. You get the rest of your medical history and a primary check there. Then the Triage Nurse will take you to a room in the ER that has flat screen televisions and has very comfortable hospital beds. Can I tell you how many hospital beds I've found comfy? Not many. I was wheeled in a wheelchair as the Triage Nurse wouldn't allow to "limp" into my room (I couldn't really put any weight on it or I'd want to scream in pain). My mom basically glared at me when I said I would "walk" and said, "Get in the chair." I don't like wheelchairs, as you can imagine. I spent the majority of my childhood avoiding being in a wheelchair due to my disabilities. The Emergency Room was rather organized too. It's rather surreal being hospitalized in a wealthy hospital. I did bring home non-latex band-aids (so I wouldn't break out into rashes if I crashed into something) and a hospital mask along with my discharge papers and my medical bracelet for souvenirs though. The masks were outside the waiting room area since this swine flu epidemic doesn't seem to be going away any time soon here in America.

In other words, I had an eventful weekend. I don't even want to know how expensive the X-Rays were as they were state-of-the-art X-Rays of my hip. I don't even want to know how expensive my little visit is going to cost! So, guess who gets to see the doctor in the next week or so? Yay, that would be me.

Anyway, that's the not-so-brief update. Maybe I should start journaling some more. Ha ha ha.

My mood thing seems to be wacky again for some reason. Why is always me?