– Ville du yarne ha nua spisa? – Veronica asked me a sacramental question. Those who read my post “Food on Hilling Noshkom” already know that she is the one asking me in Norwegian if I would like to eat (I hope I haven’t bothered the readers too much with my favorite “noshkom”).
“Visseli,” I answered, meaning that “of course, dear, and I would be incredibly grateful to you if you deigned to feed me.”
– Wa vil du ha po midda? – my wife complicated the question, demonstrating her insane interest in what I wanted for dinner.
- Bulb! – I answered in Norwegian.
“Not “bul shchet,” but “schet buller,” Veronica corrected me.
Well, yes, she’s right - meatballs in Norwegian sound exactly like this: “schet buller” - “meat buns”, literally, because “schet” means “meat”, and “buller”... well, that’s understandable, Maybe. By the way, in Swedish they sound exactly the same and, if you remember, this was Carlson’s favorite dish.
“One hell of a fool,” I said, “shchet fash ar slutte ( chopped meat ended).
“Hanle on Markt,” my wife sent me... to the supermarket. And so I went.
At the supermarket I picked up minced meat and lazily trudged to the checkout. Suddenly I broke out in a cold sweat, and my vision blurred. Something strange began to happen to my hands: I looked at them and was struck by a strong tremor - my fingers were shaking as if someone was having a seizure. On top of that, while passing by the bakery department, I suddenly desperately wanted a bun covered with a delicate glaze. Without saying a word, with a shaking finger I pointed to the saleswoman at this bun, and then pointed at the bun with halva. Clearly recognizing me as a bakery maniac and fearing for her life and, in some cases, even her honor, the girl packed both rolls for me with lightning speed. I rushed headlong to the checkout, managing to fish a Pepsi bottle out of the refrigerator on the way. Luckily, there was no queue, and now I was sitting on the bench in front of the store building. A few sips of ice-cold Pepsi and my hands began to obey me a little better. It's time for the buns. The first one failed so quickly that I didn't even taste it. But I really enjoyed the bun with halva. Fortunately, the sudden attack of hypoglycemia (as I explained this condition to myself) has almost passed.
Arriving home and giving the minced meat to my wife, I began calling my friend Jasur Pulatovich. Unlike me, he remained faithful to medicine and is considered one of the best pediatricians in Tashkent (according to Tashkent mothers). For me, he is simply a storehouse of valuable information, a walking medical encyclopedia and, despite his age (he is six years older than me, and for our mentality this is a long time) and the fact that he was once my teacher (for our mentality this is generally unrealistic abyss) – my very close friend. Since Jasur Pulatovich is incredibly similar to the Rabbit from the Soviet cartoon “Winnie the Pooh” and speaks casually with everyone (even his children), I am also accustomed to this form of communication with him.
After listening to me, Jasur asked if I was taking antibiotics (some of their forms can cause similar conditions) and, having learned that I was not taking them, he confidently said that “the dwarf tapeworm causes similar symptoms.” And then he asked if in the recent (or distant) past I had eaten poorly cooked meat. I remembered my favorite dish - liver, cooked in a frying pan for twenty seconds - and “remembered” that, they say, “yes, there was something like that.” “Then this is definitely a dwarf tapeworm,” summed up Jasur Pulatovich.
Just like in the rhyme:
"I have a stomach ache,
So someone lives there.
If it's not worms,
So you did it!”
But I’ve never been seen doing anything like that! So, there is a “stranger” in me! This thought haunted me.
"What to do?!" – I screamed and Jasur calmly replied: “Drink albendazole.”
But it must be said that albendazole is a very expensive (in Uzbekistan, at least) drug, and the whole family should take it just in case, because worms are a family disease. Moreover, you need to drink it five days every other day, 400 mg, and considering that lately I have been in the habit of diluting all expensive drugs... In short, it’s terrible!
I didn’t have the slightest idea where to get so much albendazole, which I told Jasur Pulatovich, to which he replied that he successfully prescribes to his patients (as well as to his household once every six months for prevention) VETERINARY albendazole of Dutch or Spanish production. Moreover, as he himself believes, this albendazole itself High Quality, because no one counterfeits it, no one cheats it, and it costs thirty times less than a pharmaceutical drug. I thanked my friend for the advice and hurried to my wife to hold family council.
“I won’t drink animal medicine,” Veronica told me with an ultimatum in Russian (apparently, she has not yet learned such words in Norwegian).
“Well, kiss your worms,” I answered irritably and went to the veterinary pharmacy.
Albendazole was present there, and in two dosages: for small animals, such as dogs, cats and small cattle, and for large animals, such as horses, cattle, elephants and hippos.
I decided not to waste time and demanded a liter canister of ten percent (10%) Dutch-made albendazole. You know, thirty thousand soums (or about two thousand tenge) for such an amount of high-quality drug was not a pity to pay.
- Do you have a farm? – the seller asked respectfully, counting the money.
- No! – I snapped, not wanting to get into the discussion.
- So you have a nursery? – the seller did not lag behind.
That salesman is probably still standing there with his eyes bulging and his mouth open. It’s your own fault, because the less you know, the better you sleep.
Arriving home, I diluted the drug as Jasur taught me and drank it. Then he pushed the medicine into his daughter. Veronica, moaning and complaining, nevertheless, herself expressed a desire to drink the “bestial” mixture and agreed that the situation was like in a joke: “Well, yes, horror!”, but not “Horror! Horror! Horror!".
Needless to say, I have not had any attacks of hypoglycemia over the past two months, and my family’s well-being and appetite have noticeably increased. This means that there were, after all, “strangers” there!
Yesterday I treated myself to cookies again. And what? I have almost a liter of albendazole!
It may be chaotic and long... but it’s unlikely to work out any other way...
Our parents have 3 children ( elder sister N. 35 years old, middle brother M. 31 years old, youngest me 30 years old).
All our lives we lived in an ordinary 2x room apartment. Dad inherited a one-room apartment, we rented it out. 10 years ago, my mother inherited 1/2 of a one-room apartment.
Sister N. gave birth to a child at the age of 22, her partner either moved in or came to live in the apartment where we all lived. Soon they broke up completely, and she went on a spree (what to hide, she always walked, even while pregnant she drank beer and smoked). Our parents supported the child, I looked after my nephew after school, and my brother went into the army for 2 years, because... There was a catastrophic lack of space. At this time, my sister was offered to move into my father’s one-room apartment, but she refused because... She doesn't have any girlfriends in that area...
At the age of 20, I met my husband. We didn’t really live with our parents; we sometimes came to spend the night. As a result, a month after we met, my sister kicked me out of the apartment with my things. Dad offered his apartment, it was just empty. But on the condition that we do the repairs there ourselves + work it off (that is, we help them financially, then he will give me the apartment). We agreed and moved there. We began to slowly settle in (to make it clear, the apartment was in a ruined state, without wallpaper, flooring, and practically no windows).
A month later, my grandmother, my mother’s mother, dies, and our mother receives 1/2 of a one-room apartment. A year later, mom and aunt sell the apartment and split the money.
Mom decided to buy her brother an apartment. There was not enough money (there were 700 thousand).
We added 130 thousand, bought a studio at the foundation pit stage, and a year later it was built. The studio turned out to be not enough, so we decided to sell it and buy a full-fledged one-room apartment, closer to our parents. We sold the studio for 1200, bought a one-room apartment at the pit stage for 1150. The parents took the difference. The apartment was built, but again it didn’t work. Parents were eager to buy a car. Ok, we sold it for 1750, bought an even larger one-room apartment for 1400 at the excavation stage, and gave the difference to our parents for a car. The apartment was built, but my brother refused to move (it was a long drive to work). All transactions were carried out by my husband, he also looked for both buyers and sellers, looked for where to buy cheaper so that construction projects would not freeze, and where to sell at a higher price.
As a result, the brother lived with his parents, the sister and her nephew and her roommates too.
They offered my sister housing again, we all decided to chip in and buy her a room in a communal apartment, she refused, she wants to own her parents’ two-room apartment, she won’t agree to anything less.
With our help, my parents began to build a house in the village so that they could live in nature in retirement.
Here she met a criminal sitting in prison. Love-carrots, date-transfers... And she decided to buy him back. I cheated my brother out of a loan, paid someone, and he turned out to be a criminal. They began to live in rented apartments. We lived like this for 2.5 years.
My brother stayed with his parents for now, but he cut his sister and nephew out of his life.
Last year she decided to leave the criminal and found herself a boyfriend. Love is carrots again. At one point, when the neighbors could no longer stand their constant fun with loud music and orgies, they beat him and broke his jaw.
So what did the older sister do? She decided to replace his jaw, cheating me out of money... So my sister was gone, I continued to communicate with my nephew.
Having moved out of her rented apartment to live with her partner’s parents, she gave her child to our parents to support and raise. And of course, like Mother Teresa, I decided to help them, either buy things, go to school, or pay for additional English classes. A child, even 12 years old...
My parents renovated the apartment inside and out and bought the best.
In January we find out that the older sister is pregnant, and the apartment in which they live with his parents, the bank is suing them to take the apartment, because... They don't pay the mortgage.
Meanwhile, my parents decided to change the car again, but buy a more expensive one. We decided to sell the apartment again, which was empty. We sold it for 1400 (prices fell). My parents suggested that my husband earn a year with this money so that there would be enough for everything (an apartment for my brother for 1200, a car for my parents for 1000, what’s left is for us). We agreed... but on the condition that this is the last time we earn money for them, and dad will still give me his apartment, in which we have been living for 10 years.
At the beginning of August she gives birth and takes her eldest son to look after the baby.
At the end of August, I saw my nephew for the last time, who said that I was a loser, and that it was right that my mother cheated me out of money, it’s a pity that it wasn’t enough. Since then I have not kept in touch with him.
3 weeks ago my dad called and asked me to help my sister, to allow me to live in my parents’ apartment (my parents retired and moved to the village, my brother lives in their apartment). I refused, offered to rent a room at my own expense and move her there, she refused.
At the beginning of the week, the parents arrived in the city (they come once a week), the apartment is a mess, the sister cut the lock in their room into the oak door (i.e. ruined it), she is lying on a light velor sofa with her eldest son in street clothes and shoes, next to a baby in a diaper without a diaper. Used diapers are scattered on the floor, empty beer bottles, an ashtray full of bulls. They were greeted with the words “What the hell... are you stuck with?”
The parents, in shock, couldn’t even say anything. We went back to the village. The next day they arrived, collected valuables, came to my work to get money, mom was in tears, dad had no face...
Where am I leading with all this? Because dad decided that my sister had nowhere to live, maternity capital she will only have enough for a room in a communal apartment, and this is not an option with 2 children, which means that it’s time for my husband and I to vacate the apartment (she is his, he hasn’t given it to me yet, because we haven’t bought an apartment for my brother and they need a car - a year hasn’t passed yet).
In the evenings I kind of sit at home and think, I seem to live according to my conscience, I help the whole family, but in the end I turned out to be a loser...
By December I’m buying an apartment for my brother, a car for my parents, about 300 thousand remains... so what... it’s not even enough for a banal room... and I’ll have to go to rented apartment and start living again from 0. The only difference is that at 20 years old it’s easier to start living from 0 than now...
I'll make a retreat: my husband and I wanted to sell in next year one-room apartment, add 300 thousand earned and buy a two-room apartment. All this was done just to adopt a child (yes, I have cockroaches, I wanted the child to have his own room). And here's the bummer...
Of course, I understand dad, she is his daughter too... But how can you throw one daughter out into the street so that another daughter can feel good? How to communicate with him after this? How can we continue to live with such a burden?
I don’t want to create a topic anonymously, I’m not a troll... I’m an ordinary person
Every cat owner knows that if a pet has diarrhea, then all is not well with it. This intestinal reaction may be caused by poor feeding or an intestinal infection.
If with the first option everything is simple - change the food or diet, then with the other - everything is more complicated. Intestinal infections in animals are divided into several types (viral, bacterial and protozoal) and today we will analyze each of them.
Viral intestinal infections
Symptoms:
- diarrhea (stool that is watery, pale or green with a foul odor);
- rapid weight loss;
- lack of appetite;
- stomach pain (the cat runs away when you want to touch it);
- dehydration;
- fever;
- vomit;
- sneezing;
- cloudy discharge from the eyes.
All of these signs will not necessarily be present together. If the pet is a healthy, young cat, then of all the symptoms there may only be diarrhea. But with small kittens and older animals the opposite is true - the weaker the body, the more pronounced the symptoms will be.
You need to know that one type of viral intestinal infection, rotavirus, can be transmitted to humans. Children, elderly people and anyone with weakened immune systems are at risk.
Therefore, it is very important to take your sick cat to the vet immediately. An immediate response will make it possible to quickly suppress the disease.
Most often, the doctor prescribes human interferon, autoimmune serums or antibiotics.
The causative agents of this type of infection are lamblia and coccidia bacteria. In adult cats, the disease may be asymptomatic, but in kittens and older cats, green diarrhea begins.
Also, the pet may lose appetite, develop dehydration and exhaustion, since the intestines are not able to properly absorb food and liquid.
In 70% of cases, after a couple of weeks, the symptoms of the disease subside. But you shouldn’t be particularly happy: the cat becomes a lifelong carrier of infectious agents. And at the slightest problem with immune system the disease may recur.
Veterinarians prescribe strong and very toxic drugs to the animal, which can damage the liver and kidneys.
The possibility of transmission of infection from animals to humans has not been fully studied, but most scientists say that there is a possibility. Therefore, during treatment, follow the rules of hygiene, wash the tray often and isolate your pet from children.
Infections of bacterial origin
This is the largest group, since the disease can be caused by Campylobacter, Helicobacter, Clostridia, Salmonella, pathogenic strains of Escherichia coli, etc.
But all these bacteria are united by one pronounced symptom - yellowish-brown diarrhea, sometimes mixed with blood.
In this case, it is necessary to diagnose the disease in one (or more) of these ways:
- blood biochemistry;
- complete blood count;
- blood plasma analysis;
- abdominal radiography;
- Ultrasound of the digestive organs;
- ultrasonography.
After studying the test results, the veterinarian will prescribe appropriate medications that will stop intoxication in the body and restore the balance of electrolytes in the blood.
