CAT:
Loki is still around. Despite all my grousing about the details, there is still some HAPPY mixed in when I get home and find that he's still there.
I'm dutifully scrubbing his face (my hands still have the stink of whatever horrible stuff is coming out of his ear, despite several washings), giving him his subdermal hydration injections (200mL into the scruff, and he amazingly doesn't fuss over it ... MUCH), bandaging myself (despite my attempts at taking care, I still managed to gouge myself with a needle while juggling the cat early in the morning), and periodically trying to shove food in his face. No, really. That seems to be the only way to get him to eat: Put a plate of wet cat food in front of him, pet him, then take a fingertip of gravy and bits and try applying it to the front of his mouth (it OCCASIONALLY makes it there, but not at all always), let him start licking his mouth clean, and then maybe, MAYBE, after a kajillion tries, he starts to acknowledge that there's a plate of what was a few minutes ago WARM cat food in front of him, and he laps at it and maybe even gives it a nibble or two. Repeat process for about 20 minutes or so and he might eat some more.
And then I start crying when I see the cat staggering, stumbling weakly back to his curl-up spot under the table. I'd carry him there myself, but it's physically impossible (or at least very unlikely I'd be able to do it without severe risk of injury to myself and the cat). He doesn't purr anymore, but at least he seems to enjoy it (?) when I rub him under the chin and comb out his fur (especially around the neck, cheek, and scruff areas). So ... yeah, I'm going to be doing a lot of that while I'm at home.
Alas, no miracles happening here. Gwendel has been far more composed about this -- at least in my presence -- but the 'round-the-clock cat-watch is really wearing on her. She took the cat in yesterday (which was an ordeal for both her and the cat), and the vet wants her to bring him back tomorrow. Given that the ongoing prognosis hasn't changed from "He'll be dying any day now, sorry," (roughly paraphrased), I just don't get it, but I'm not going to cut corners on the cat, if I can help it.
I was going to write about a number of other things, but ... I'll put those in another post or two or three. Blending it all together just seems wrong.