NOW i know what my mother felt like

last night, as i was doing the dishes before i went to bed (since the cats came, i can’t leave anything in the sink for a period of more than 37 seconds because the cats, specifically Amy, can’t stay out of the sink — bathroom or kitchen). Rose, who has heretofore been the least offender of this practice was contradicting herself and trying to jump up during the wash cycle. unfortunately, instead of jumping on the clear side to my left, she was going for the occupied one to my right. you know, where the drying rack was, with all the dishes on it.
next thing i know, cat, dishes and dish rack are sliding off the counter and i’m grasping feebly to keep them all from going SMASH.
but smash, they did.
my glass teapot shattered, my wooden ikea dish rack broke, the plate, mug and plastic cup survived and Rose had taken off in fear.
i immediately grabbed Amy, put her in the bathroom and closed the door. after finding Rose huddled between the couch and curtains, i did the same to her so i could go back and clean up all the dangerous slivers, shards and chunks of teapot all over the floor.
about half an hour later, i was satisfied it was cat safe enough for me to let the beasties out of the bathroom. Amy was on the counter, of course; but, Rose was lying down on the rug in front of the litter box. i picked her up and immediately realized something was wrong. she wouldn’t weight bear on her right front paw at all. i gave her leg some probing squeezes all down its length, until i got to her paw. she wouldn’t even let me touch it. and it was starting to get swollen.
i freaked out. maybe not externally, but inside i thought i might lose it entirely.
i couldn’t think of a single place i could put her where she wouldn’t have to jump or walk far for anything, so i put her into her carrier with a towel and ramekins of food and water. after i was satisfied she was safe for the time being, i started to freak out externally.
i called christopher and started bawling. i just didn’t know what to do. he offered to make the hour-long transit trip over here and i took him up on it. while i waited for him to arrive, i sat in front of the carrier and cried and apologized and sang and talked to Rose. Amy either didn’t know or didn’t like what was going on and kept jumping on and around the box and swatting at my head. i didn’t blame her one bit. i felt like i’d broken her sister and she hadn’t even lived here for a week, yet!
after chris arrived and i cried some more, we decided to leave her in the carrier overnight and hopefully, by the morning, the swelling would go down and she would be fine. otherwise, we’d take her to the vet which was open first.
i didn’t think i’d get any sleep, what with the worry and the sinuses inflamed and stuffed with crying. i put in my earplugs, instructed chris to wake me for any scary noises, and managed to get a few hours of rest. when i got up this morning, her paw was just as, if not more, swollen and she wouldn’t put any weight on it at all. after carrying her to the litter so she could do her thing after being couped up all night, i gave her a little fresh food and water and then we drove to the vet.
i should have thought, but because i didn’t call first, they sent us packing with an appointment five hours later. luckily for my nerves, we got in for a cancellation two hours earlier. she’s at the vet now awaiting sedation and x-rays to determine what’s going on. i guess the best case scenario right now is that it’s either just a very bad sprain or a small fracture in one of her tiny wrist bones and she’ll have a very boring two-to-three weeks in a splint. the vet mentioned scary things like orthopedic surgery, nerve damage and problems in later life, but until they get images, i’m trying not to think about that too much. i’m barely holding back the tears as it is.
i feel like the worst kitten-mother ever. seriously. none of my other cats has ever broken themselves in my care! they’ve only been here six days and i’m already taking her to the vet to treat an injury? what the fuck kind of shitty caregiver am i to let that happen to a poor kitten? i feel like the shelter is going to swoop in and take her and Amy away because obviously i entirely fail at cats.
while i feel that, i know it was just an accident. shit happens. kittens fall down a lot. this was just dumb luck and unfortunate circumstance. but, now i think i know what it’s like to be a mother. all i can think about is that she’s hurting and i can’t do anything about it other than what i’m doing. i’m getting her looked after, damn the expense, and hopefully, everything will work out okay in the end.
i hope.
please, let it work out.