A Prayer for Lucy
Jul. 12th, 2005 | 12:10 am
Got home from the family reunion in Wisconsin at 8:30 tonight. Trip was great. But when we got home, it was clear Lucy was acting very strangely. Wouldn’t purr, wasn’t interested in dinner, and when I tried to spoon-feed her, she was repulsed by the food. We tried canned tuna, and same reaction. She gave me a teeny purr when I first went downstairs to find her, but after that, nothing. Ten seconds of purr from the cat that purrs if you look at her funny. Very lethargic, too. Just behavior totally off. So we took her immediately to the emergency vet. They found she had a fever and thought it might be a viral something or other. We want them to do the basics and then we can take her home to recuperate. So they take her into the back, telling us it’ll be 15 minutes or so. 30 pass. Longer. Finally someone comes out and says they wanna speak to us. They take us into one of the treatment rooms. There was a complication. She started with a massive nose bleed. By this time, she’s coughing up blood. They discuss options – it’s not looking good. He says she’s only got a 30 percent chance. They’re going to work up an estimate and then we need to seriously consider whether we want to put out the money or let her go. I ask to go see her. She’s coughing up blood something awful. She’s covered, the towel’s covered… She’s in an oxygenated cage, so we can’t touch her. But she looks at me, and I see something in her eyes. She’s not gonna walk to the front of the cage ‘cause it’s too much effort. Instead, she’s gonna sit there and get all that crap out of her and she’s gonna fight. She’s not ready yet. So we go out with the estimate while they let us discuss. Mom and I look at the numbers, examine what’s there. Neither of us says anything about whether or not we want to do this. We talk about how bad it looks. Then she stands up and we walk to the counter. It’ll be almost a thousand dollars, but we’ll do it. As long as she’s still fighting, we’ll let her fight. We’ll help her fight.
So tonight we sit vigil. If the phone rings, it’s no good. They told us that if we don’t hear from them, it’s a good sign. Tomorrow, we go in at 7:30 and take her from there to our regular vet. Mom isn’t sure she’ll last the night. I think she will. She’s our baby, our Lucy-belle. She’ll fight. And as long as she’ll fight, I’m there with her, even if I can’t be there physically.
And through all of this, there’s only one person I want to talk to. I wish to hell I could talk to Scott, because he’s always done such a good job of keeping me calm. I wish to hell he’d answer IMs. I don’t know if I dare IM him again, but I just want to talk to him. I want him to help me feel better.
What did you get into, Lucybelle? Hang in there, baby. Can you feel me? I’m here praying for you. Don’t leave me yet, little one. I’m not ready for that.
Jul. 12th, 2005 | 07:01 am
No news is good news, right? Keep on trying, my little Lucybelle fighter. We’re coming to help you more now.
Lucy Update
Jul. 12th, 2005 | 11:47 am
We picked her up at 7:30ish, and took her over to our usual vet. Over the night, she stopped bleeding and coughing and generally improved. About five of 7, she coughed again with a touch of blood, but they hoped it was just leftover stuff. We took her over to Pet Vet (after being reassured that it’s TUESDAY, not WEDNESDAY, silly), where they immediately started cooing over our drooling baby. She’s being well cared for, and her odds are much better since she made it the night.
One of the possibilities (it’s been narrowed down to poison or this) is that the medicine they gave her for fever caused an allergic reaction. Chances are very slim, but it is possible. Wouldn’t that just be like my cat – stresses herself out for four days when we’re not there to the point she makes herself sick and then ends up being allergic to the medicine given to help. That’s my baby!
Thanks for the well wishes – it’s helped me a lot. Keep a good thought for her if you can – I think it’s helping her (but hey, what do I know). Hang in there, Lucybelle. You’re almost there.
Thirty Percent Is A Very Big Number
Jul. 12th, 2005 | 08:27 pm
Lucy’s home safe. It’s all going to be okay. She’s settled in the bathroom with food, water, litterbox, and bed. First thing she had to do was use the litterbox. Then, I was filling her water dish, and she HAD to be up on the counter in the water. She jumped onto the toilet and then to the counter. She jumped. And then, Mom went downstairs to get food, and while she was down there, Lucy demanded a lap. She stood on my legs and kept circling until I settled into a proper lap. The moment I did, she curled right up and started purring so hard… she purred so hard she started coughing again. But it was just coughing. Nothing came up. She’s just got a little cough (okay, not so little – it’s really awful), a couple of shaved paws (okay, so 3 out of 4 isn’t ‘a couple’), and an empty tummy. But she’s a very sleepy kitten. So we left her in the bathroom after she got all settled ‘cause she’d already fallen asleep.
Thank you for your thoughts. I think it helped her. 30 percent, huh? Well, thirty is a very big number for such a tiny cat. And this little kitten just wriggled her way through it.