Cat! In a bit more detail...
I am happy to report that I'm typing this with someone small and furry sprawled on my lap sleeping.
We dropped Izzy off at the vet on Wednesday morning, by which time she was already rather grumpy because she hadn't been allowed anything to eat since 8 o'clock the night before. We had to leave her there and then the vet took her over to the hospital with her when she finished her shift at the clinic. Ian had the day off work, so we both went home and rattled around, not really sure what to do with ourselves. In the end I had a nap (somebody had Mummy up rather early to complain at me about the lack of food) and Ian decided to go and clean things. When we hadn't heard from the hospital by 1pm, we knew that her pre-op blood tests must have come back OK because they'd said they would only call us if there were any problems. The vet had told us we should hear from her by 4pm, so when the phone rang at 3.20, we both expected it to be the hospital. Ian was in the attic rummaging for something and I was in the toilet, so we both panicked and scrambled for the phone. Bloody telemarketing. On this occasion, they were lucky it was a recording, because had it been a person on the other end, I may have said some extremely rude words to them. The vet finally called about ten past five to say that they were all done and generally things had gone well. They got the biopsy samples they needed and managed to take out the worst teeth. It took so long because her tooth roots had calcified and fused to her jaw bone, which made pulling the teeth a lot more complicated because they had to drill up into the bone to make sure they got all of the root. There was one more tooth they'd have liked to take out, but her blood pressure suddenly dropped and wouldn't come back up so they decided to leave it there and bring her round. General anaesthetics are very risky in older animals, so they didn't want to push it (and we wouldn't have wanted them to, either.)
We were allowed to go and see her a few hours later once she'd had time to wake up. By that point I was feeling much less worried because the vet had told me she was awake and 'grumbling', which is normal behaviour! When the nurse brought her in to us, I couldn't help laughing at the state of her. They'd offered her something to eat and she'd promptly demolished the whole bowl of food, but managed to get it all over her in the process! She had food under her chin, down her chest, completely covering her nose and in both sets of whiskers - pretty much the equivalent of a person getting food in their eyebrows! It was obvious her spatial awareness was a bit challenged still, and I'm guessing she had trouble judging how far away the food was and ended up sticking her head in it. Poor kitty! It really was funny though, and again it made me feel better since she was obviously keen to eat, which was another good sign. We sat and stroked her and talked to her for a bit, and though she was still very wobbly and her eyes were like saucers (morphine-based painkillers...) she definitely recognised us because she wanted straight up on Ian's lap. Leaving her there overnight wasn't fun, but it was the best place for her to be. I had real trouble sleeping though - it was just too quiet!
It took *forever* for them to be ready to let her come home yesterday, but we picked her up in the afternoon, by which time she was getting back to normal, although they'd given her an injection of painkillers before letting her go so she was still a bit spacey. As soon as we got in she went straight to the kitchen to look for food, so I opened a tin of sardines for her and she demolished the whole lot by evening. She's been mainly eating and sleeping since she got home, but she already seems happier. Her mouth must definitely be less sore, from the way she's eating - she's eating things that used to give her trouble with no complaints.
Now we just have to wait for the biopsy results, but whichever way it goes, she's more comfortable now and that's what's important. Thank you for everyone's well-wishes; it means a lot to me.
We dropped Izzy off at the vet on Wednesday morning, by which time she was already rather grumpy because she hadn't been allowed anything to eat since 8 o'clock the night before. We had to leave her there and then the vet took her over to the hospital with her when she finished her shift at the clinic. Ian had the day off work, so we both went home and rattled around, not really sure what to do with ourselves. In the end I had a nap (somebody had Mummy up rather early to complain at me about the lack of food) and Ian decided to go and clean things. When we hadn't heard from the hospital by 1pm, we knew that her pre-op blood tests must have come back OK because they'd said they would only call us if there were any problems. The vet had told us we should hear from her by 4pm, so when the phone rang at 3.20, we both expected it to be the hospital. Ian was in the attic rummaging for something and I was in the toilet, so we both panicked and scrambled for the phone. Bloody telemarketing. On this occasion, they were lucky it was a recording, because had it been a person on the other end, I may have said some extremely rude words to them. The vet finally called about ten past five to say that they were all done and generally things had gone well. They got the biopsy samples they needed and managed to take out the worst teeth. It took so long because her tooth roots had calcified and fused to her jaw bone, which made pulling the teeth a lot more complicated because they had to drill up into the bone to make sure they got all of the root. There was one more tooth they'd have liked to take out, but her blood pressure suddenly dropped and wouldn't come back up so they decided to leave it there and bring her round. General anaesthetics are very risky in older animals, so they didn't want to push it (and we wouldn't have wanted them to, either.)
We were allowed to go and see her a few hours later once she'd had time to wake up. By that point I was feeling much less worried because the vet had told me she was awake and 'grumbling', which is normal behaviour! When the nurse brought her in to us, I couldn't help laughing at the state of her. They'd offered her something to eat and she'd promptly demolished the whole bowl of food, but managed to get it all over her in the process! She had food under her chin, down her chest, completely covering her nose and in both sets of whiskers - pretty much the equivalent of a person getting food in their eyebrows! It was obvious her spatial awareness was a bit challenged still, and I'm guessing she had trouble judging how far away the food was and ended up sticking her head in it. Poor kitty! It really was funny though, and again it made me feel better since she was obviously keen to eat, which was another good sign. We sat and stroked her and talked to her for a bit, and though she was still very wobbly and her eyes were like saucers (morphine-based painkillers...) she definitely recognised us because she wanted straight up on Ian's lap. Leaving her there overnight wasn't fun, but it was the best place for her to be. I had real trouble sleeping though - it was just too quiet!
It took *forever* for them to be ready to let her come home yesterday, but we picked her up in the afternoon, by which time she was getting back to normal, although they'd given her an injection of painkillers before letting her go so she was still a bit spacey. As soon as we got in she went straight to the kitchen to look for food, so I opened a tin of sardines for her and she demolished the whole lot by evening. She's been mainly eating and sleeping since she got home, but she already seems happier. Her mouth must definitely be less sore, from the way she's eating - she's eating things that used to give her trouble with no complaints.
Now we just have to wait for the biopsy results, but whichever way it goes, she's more comfortable now and that's what's important. Thank you for everyone's well-wishes; it means a lot to me.