Too Much Perfection?

I blogged previously about my sick siamese. He's been diabetic for a few years and we recently discovered that he has advanced stage asthma/respiratory problems. As in, the worse the Univ. of Georgia radiologists have ever seen. Yeah. That bad.

I wasn't surprised, though. It seems my animals always have firsts. Like my golden retriever's fishing line leg ligament. Or one of my horse's massively stobbed tendon sheath. If the shit can go wrong, it does go wrong. On an epic scale.

But I digress. As per usual.

Anyways, he's been doing so-so. I'm giving him insulin twice a day now instead of once. I'm also giving him oral steroids. A pill.

Yeah, I'm giving a cat a pill. I've done worse, though. Thank goodness he's got the mildest disposition ever. And I'm doubly thankful for experience in the whole feline med-giving because I once had a siamese that had to have medication daily and she was like trying to get medicine in a cheetah. Not fun.

Again, I digress.

So tonight I was giving the cat his insulin. It went well. I injected him carefully, because he's lost a lot of weight and I don't want to put the needle in the wrong spot, and because I hate needles and I try to be mindful and respectful with them. Until it got to the point where I had to recap the needed. I wasn't paying attention as I drove the needle into the little plastic orange cap. No, I didn't miss. Instead that little fucking needle pierced through the cheap plastic cap and pierced my finger. To. The. Bone.

Argghhhh.

Such a little needle. So much owwie. I nearly fainted. Yeah. Seriously. Did I mention I hate needles?

I think I'm going to officially fire myself and make it DH's job from now on. Either that or I want hazard pay or something.

Ouch.