(no subject)
In an effort to get more out of the little time I have at home, and indeed all of my waking time, I've taken to planning (at least roughly) most of my day. "Online journaling" fits in on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, for about half an hour or so. You can tell how well this is working for me by noticing that it's Wednesday morning. ;)
My cat, Shasta, is sick. My mom noticed this weekend that she had lost a lot of weight and took her to the vet. They noticed she had poorly functioning kidneys and her liver wasn't doing so well either. And they found a lump in her mammary glands; she was dehydrated and constipated and has an abscessed tooth. Poor kitty. =(
My mom took her in again yesterday morning since nothing they found out on Saturday was really conclusive and they did ultrasounds and things and discovered that she has some liver disease and pancreatitis, but they don't know what's causing either. They subcutaneously rehydrated her and she ate a little bit while she was there. They sent her home with my mom, and said they'd check in today to see how she did at home. My mom said she could tell she felt better and was a little more active and lively, but the vets said that pancreatitis is hard to give a prognosis on because it's so rare in cats and the outcomes are all over the board.
It feels like I haven't seen her in ages, so I'm going to see if I can't convince Kevin this Saturday to take me down just so I can make sure I see her at least once more, in case her bout of pancreatitis ends in, well, sudden death. Even if Kevin doesn't want to take me, I'll probably go down anyway.
It's sad because I feel like somehow this is all my fault. As if somehow she'd be fine if I took her with me when I moved out and kept a closer eye on her. I know this probably isn't true, but I still feel terrible about it. Right now my worst fear isn't that she'll die, but that I won't get to see her again before she does.
It's a little odd, because this is really my first gut-wrenching encounter with mortality. It's amazing to think I've gone 23 years without something like this. Which isn't to say people and pets I know haven't passed on, but they've never been so close. And it'd be even more gut-wrenching if I saw her everyday. As it is there are times when I'll think I see her out of the corner of my eye and of course it's not - I just miss her sometimes. I wonder if those instances will increase in a worse case scenario?
My cat, Shasta, is sick. My mom noticed this weekend that she had lost a lot of weight and took her to the vet. They noticed she had poorly functioning kidneys and her liver wasn't doing so well either. And they found a lump in her mammary glands; she was dehydrated and constipated and has an abscessed tooth. Poor kitty. =(
My mom took her in again yesterday morning since nothing they found out on Saturday was really conclusive and they did ultrasounds and things and discovered that she has some liver disease and pancreatitis, but they don't know what's causing either. They subcutaneously rehydrated her and she ate a little bit while she was there. They sent her home with my mom, and said they'd check in today to see how she did at home. My mom said she could tell she felt better and was a little more active and lively, but the vets said that pancreatitis is hard to give a prognosis on because it's so rare in cats and the outcomes are all over the board.
It feels like I haven't seen her in ages, so I'm going to see if I can't convince Kevin this Saturday to take me down just so I can make sure I see her at least once more, in case her bout of pancreatitis ends in, well, sudden death. Even if Kevin doesn't want to take me, I'll probably go down anyway.
It's sad because I feel like somehow this is all my fault. As if somehow she'd be fine if I took her with me when I moved out and kept a closer eye on her. I know this probably isn't true, but I still feel terrible about it. Right now my worst fear isn't that she'll die, but that I won't get to see her again before she does.
It's a little odd, because this is really my first gut-wrenching encounter with mortality. It's amazing to think I've gone 23 years without something like this. Which isn't to say people and pets I know haven't passed on, but they've never been so close. And it'd be even more gut-wrenching if I saw her everyday. As it is there are times when I'll think I see her out of the corner of my eye and of course it's not - I just miss her sometimes. I wonder if those instances will increase in a worse case scenario?