In case you didn't know, there "was" mold at our new place. Not even 3 months and it's climbing up that walls. If you do know, then you also know I know a thing or two about mold. I greatly dislike our landlord. Okay, I fucking hate him, he deserves to be tortured and castrated. Possibly death, tho it may be too good for him. I try to get along, there are very few people I hate with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns, he's one of them.
Needless to say, he was very mean, belittling, insulting, rude, a whinny bitch, and many more that I can't write. He shouldn't own a company if you're not going to fix what you brake. The mold was in the walls to begin with, and we had a couple boxes stacked up ageist the wall for less than three weeks, moved them and wall is two and a half feet up the wall!
That's probably why Sam is so ill.
So while our fucking idiot of a landlord "fixes" the problem, Neil, Sam, and I are shacked up at my parents, more specifically in their bedroom (which has the master bath connected). Sam seems to be doing better, lots of canned food, lots and lots of love, and curiosity of why we're not taking him in the walk-in shower with us. Saw the vet today and said he's gained some weight. Plus he's taking the fluids like a champ (they poked him only once today!).
It also explained why I had three massive (ER visit grade) migraines in that short period. So many shots... so... many... But it's a necessary evil.
Oh, did I mention that it's really humid in our house? We asked about that and it's apparently our fault for not opening the doors and getting a dehumidifier, cooking anything that produces steam, and so much more. What? He told me that we shouldn't take hot showers or cook food. We could see our fucking breath it was so cold in the place, but apparently he thinks that it's too hot (actually told me that he was sweating, all while we can see breath!). He's a fucking idiot.
Here's something to make you guys smile then:
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