Miami, Right?

Yesterday we arrived in Miami--Miami Beach, to be exact--and I'm scared. 

It's very hot and humid here-- it's supposed to get "cold" tomorrow (68°F).  But yesterday it was snowing when we left home at 4:45 in the morning to drive to the airport on ice-coated roads. We were bundled up against the cold in clothes that we had to shed when we reached this land of palm trees, shirtless young muscle men, and Cuban everything. 

Before yesterday, I hadn't been on a plane since before the pandemic--a trip to NYC in 2019--and if not for this, I would not have been on a plane yesterday either. 

This is one reason why:

Gray Kitty is an old boy and needs lots of TLC (and meds and daily subcutaneous fluids) so leaving him isn't an easy thing for us to do. 

Luckily our friend Grace found the perfect house and cat sitter for us. Gray Kitty has already made friends with her and she has no problems giving him his meds and with help from my mother--who generously offered to come out every day--giving him his daily subQ fluids. 

She sent these pics and also texted that she's taken to calling him "Lord Gray," which I hope doesn't go to his head (although he already knows he runs the house). 

I'm joking, but honestly, it is such an incredible relief to have someone so competent to take care of our little problem child. 

So today we're here in a hotel room in Miami. Dave has stepped out to bring back some lunch and I'm slamming water and watching YouTube videos about life on Svaldbard, the remote city on a remote island near the North Pole.  

I'm scared and excited, waiting for surgery tomorrow.

It's going to be fine, right?