Sunday, January 11, 2015

The Story of the Longest Day Ever... Until Thursday Rolled Around

Okay. Update time.
 Let's go back a week and start from there, shall we?

Monday, January 5th
This day was the longest day known to man.
It began at 5AM and ended that evening at around Midnight.

The first appointment we had was a vet appointment at 7AM to drop off Whiskey to have her teeth cleaned and a few lumps removed to ensure that they were not cancerous. Then there was a doctor's appointment for all of us at 8AM.

The doctor's appointment was a nightmare.

We had two three-year-olds in a small examination room for no less than 3 hours during which we experienced the giving of a urine sample, a physical examination, bloodwork, hearing and visual testing, and vaccination updates.

(Luckily, Samantha and Easton did not have to partake in the hearing and visual testing or the bloodwork. However, let me add that trying to obtain a urine sample from a three-year-old girl is a feat that I hope I do not have to attempt to again conquer for a long time.)

We all had to have one shot each, which was a small miracle since Blake could not recall where his vaccination records were. Samantha and Easton were vaccinated against typhoid fever while Blake and I were vaccinated against pertussis, tetanus, and diphtheria (combined into one vaccination). 

After the doctor's appointment, Blake went into the office while I ran the kids by Chick-Fil-A (oh, how we shall miss you, Chick-Fil-A) before heading home to eat lunch and hopefully squeeze a nap in. 
Samantha and Easton ate their lunch while silently watching me watch the photographer take all of the outside pictures of our house, and before we knew it, we were off to the vet's office to pick up Whiskey from her appointment. 

Did you pick up on the absence of the nap?

When we picked up Whiskey, my vet, Dr. Brady, and I spent close to a hour discussing the procedures which must be completed, documented, and approved in order for Whiskey and the cat to come to Australia. 
I won't get into detail, but if you are curious as to how this process pans out over the course of seven months, take a look here: http://www.petrelocation.com/resources/international-regulations/australia 

It's a little overwhelming, let me tell ya.

Anyway, this whole time Samantha and Easton were being awesome. Easton spent much of our discussion on the floor while Samantha pretended to be his veterinarian. By the time we left I almost asked if he would compensate us for cleaning the floor in the exam room we were in as all of the hair was now all over Samantha and Easton.

You're welcome, Dr. Brady! (We love you!)

At around 3:30PM, Samantha, Easton, and I arrived back home with the most pathetic dog that you have ever seen. 

I should have taken a picture of her. Poor Whiskey had her teeth cleaned, gums scraped, curious bumps removed (not cancerous! yay!), scores of stitches placed, and a cone of shame tied around her neck.

Waiting for me at my front door was the relocation guy who I then escorted around my house, showing him what would go into storage, what would be sold, and what was going to Australia. 

Along the way, Whiskey kept bumping her cone against his calves as he tried to navigate around her and listen to my detailed explanations about each and every item that I own.

The poor man was a trooper as we finished up, scheduled our packing dates (January 28th, 29th, and 30th) and he escaped the madness of our home as quickly as he possibly could. 
Meanwhile, the photographer and our real estate agent had returned to take pictures of the inside of the house. From between 4:15PM and 6:30PM, I spent much of my time trying to keep myself, the kids, Whiskey, and the cat out of the pictures. 

When you look at the pictures it looks so calm and serene, but in reality I was just outside of the shots yelling at the kids (one dressed as a princess and one dressed as an astronaut) to stay upstairs while holding a cat who was determined more than anything to jump into shots and glare at the camera, as though she were willing people to dare try to come into her house.

Once photographs were taken and the photographer and agent were heading home, I spent thirty minutes on the phone with a sweet girl named Kristy-Ann from PetJet Pet Relocation Services, who reassured me that Australia would, in fact, allow my pathetic, stitched-up boxer and lowly, three-legged cat into their country... in August at the earliest.

Blake and I fell into bed that night certain that we had made it through the day unscathed. 

False.

I spent the next day and part of the next with a 102.5* fever, chills, and a horrible pain in my arm. 
I had suffered a bad reaction to my vaccination. 

Awesome. Just Awesome.

Coming up next on the blog:
If I thought Monday was long, I was not prepared for Thursday, My Longest Day Ever. Literally.
(I am using the term "literally" correctly here.)

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