Sick kitten.
And on that note, I'm fairly certain the fact that Phantom just isn't getting better is taking a huge toll on whatever resources I've got. I don't just mean because his gruesomely loud breathing and insistence on lying where my head should be last night kept me up. I can't shake the feeling that he's dying, and that's just breaks my heart over and over, every time I look at him. I love my kitten. He's been with me forever, it seems. Since high school. He's fought off other illnesses. Why not this one?
The fact that I feel responsible for the severity of his sickness doesn't help. I put off taking him to the vet because I was afraid that whatever treatment they prescribed would make him more miserable than the illness itself. That's what happened with Precious toward the end of her life. That's the key, though: this didn't have to be the end of Phantom's life. It's quite likely my fault that it is.
He's been sick since the end of last year. Nine months now? Something like that. Lots of different antibiotics, oral surgery, bloodwork... How much can we afford to spend on figuring out what this is if all the answers after those extensive tests are going to be things we can't afford to treat?
I'm so lost in taking care of him. If I can't take care of my cat, I sure as fuck can't take care of a kid. Hell, I can scarcely even take care of myself, but those worries aren't for anyone else but me.
We go to the vet tomorrow. I took the day off because I don't know what kinds of tests they'll want to run. This'll be his fourth, fifth visit? I'm not sure anymore. It's just been months of antibiotics, in and out of the vet's office.
He doesn't even eat anymore unless I take him to his bowl.
I'm not ready to lose him. I don't think I ever will be.
The fact that I feel responsible for the severity of his sickness doesn't help. I put off taking him to the vet because I was afraid that whatever treatment they prescribed would make him more miserable than the illness itself. That's what happened with Precious toward the end of her life. That's the key, though: this didn't have to be the end of Phantom's life. It's quite likely my fault that it is.
He's been sick since the end of last year. Nine months now? Something like that. Lots of different antibiotics, oral surgery, bloodwork... How much can we afford to spend on figuring out what this is if all the answers after those extensive tests are going to be things we can't afford to treat?
I'm so lost in taking care of him. If I can't take care of my cat, I sure as fuck can't take care of a kid. Hell, I can scarcely even take care of myself, but those worries aren't for anyone else but me.
We go to the vet tomorrow. I took the day off because I don't know what kinds of tests they'll want to run. This'll be his fourth, fifth visit? I'm not sure anymore. It's just been months of antibiotics, in and out of the vet's office.
He doesn't even eat anymore unless I take him to his bowl.
I'm not ready to lose him. I don't think I ever will be.