My cat is in the hospital
Posted: Thu Jun 06, 2019 6:17 am
Sunday night, she was fine. She was her normal self, stealing food, getting into stuff. She was looking a little thin though, so we had a vet appointment the next day.
Monday morning, the vet thought she had inflammatory bowel disease and gave her oral prednisolone. Her blood work was normal and she was declared otherwise healthy. Within half an hour of the steroid dose, she was looking ill and had become lethargic. Over the course of the day and night, she got worse and wouldn't touch food.
Tuesday morning, we took her back and the vet thought she'd had a bad reaction to something in the oral steroid and gave her something for nausea. He did bloodwork again, and it wasn't too far out of whack. But, he said that if she kept throwing up, we should take her to the emergency vet hospital. She got worse throughout the day.
Tuesday night, she started throwing up again. By the time we got to the hospital, she could barely stand.
I don't understand what happened or how it happened so quickly.
The vet there did a full blood panel. It was really bad. She was hypothermic and severely dehydrated. Her potassium was so low that she could have had a heart attack. An x-ray showed a mass in her abdomen that our vet had somehow missed. I still don't know if it's a foreign object, a massive hairball, what.
She was also so badly constipated that it was pressing her intestines up. Our vet missed it. Somehow, probably because I'm a horrible, irresponsible, inattentive pet owner, I hadn't noticed she hadn't pooped. But we have two cats and there was poop in the box and up until Monday morning when she had that oral steroid, she'd seemed basically fine and was eating like a horse so how the HELL did this even happen?
I can't understand how it isn't related to the oral steroid, but logically that cannot have caused the constipation and whatever the mass is. Nothing about this makes sense. I don't know if she'll live. They won't say and keep carefully hedging their words to just "wait and see". It's her second night in the hospital. She is honestly barely hanging on. Yeah, they managed to force feed her some paste, but, when we went to see her, she didn't even move. Her temperature is still too low, even after a full 24 hours in the hospital.
I miss her so damn badly. I keep looking at her cat bed that I have next to my desk where she always hangs out and forgetting for a moment she's gone and expecting to see her and she isn't there.
Her name is Perper. It's short for Persephone, because when she was a kitten, she went through hell and back. My brother's neighbor's at the time had her...until they didn't, if you catch my meaning. They abused and starved her. The last straw was their 8-year-old chasing Perper with the riding lawnmower. I patched her up, as best I could. She was full of worms, dehydrated, and way too skinny. She never quite made a full recovery mentally, and if cats can have PTSD, she does.
That cat is my friend. It's one of those rare bonds. Like some cats are just cats, but some cats are friends. Perper and I are friends. She's been with me through some of the worst years of my life. When I have panic attacks, she does her best to fight them. Even if it involves biting my face. Hey, it works. So, she's been the best friend I could ask for but I've failed her and now she might die. And she's alone with strangers in a strange place full of dogs and other cats. She hates all those things. All she knows is that she's sick and I'm not there and it's killing me. I just want her back.
So I'm not religious. I don't have anyone to pray to. But, I wouldn't turn down prayers for Perper or any other kind of good energy you could send her way.
Monday morning, the vet thought she had inflammatory bowel disease and gave her oral prednisolone. Her blood work was normal and she was declared otherwise healthy. Within half an hour of the steroid dose, she was looking ill and had become lethargic. Over the course of the day and night, she got worse and wouldn't touch food.
Tuesday morning, we took her back and the vet thought she'd had a bad reaction to something in the oral steroid and gave her something for nausea. He did bloodwork again, and it wasn't too far out of whack. But, he said that if she kept throwing up, we should take her to the emergency vet hospital. She got worse throughout the day.
Tuesday night, she started throwing up again. By the time we got to the hospital, she could barely stand.
I don't understand what happened or how it happened so quickly.
The vet there did a full blood panel. It was really bad. She was hypothermic and severely dehydrated. Her potassium was so low that she could have had a heart attack. An x-ray showed a mass in her abdomen that our vet had somehow missed. I still don't know if it's a foreign object, a massive hairball, what.
She was also so badly constipated that it was pressing her intestines up. Our vet missed it. Somehow, probably because I'm a horrible, irresponsible, inattentive pet owner, I hadn't noticed she hadn't pooped. But we have two cats and there was poop in the box and up until Monday morning when she had that oral steroid, she'd seemed basically fine and was eating like a horse so how the HELL did this even happen?
I can't understand how it isn't related to the oral steroid, but logically that cannot have caused the constipation and whatever the mass is. Nothing about this makes sense. I don't know if she'll live. They won't say and keep carefully hedging their words to just "wait and see". It's her second night in the hospital. She is honestly barely hanging on. Yeah, they managed to force feed her some paste, but, when we went to see her, she didn't even move. Her temperature is still too low, even after a full 24 hours in the hospital.
I miss her so damn badly. I keep looking at her cat bed that I have next to my desk where she always hangs out and forgetting for a moment she's gone and expecting to see her and she isn't there.
Her name is Perper. It's short for Persephone, because when she was a kitten, she went through hell and back. My brother's neighbor's at the time had her...until they didn't, if you catch my meaning. They abused and starved her. The last straw was their 8-year-old chasing Perper with the riding lawnmower. I patched her up, as best I could. She was full of worms, dehydrated, and way too skinny. She never quite made a full recovery mentally, and if cats can have PTSD, she does.
That cat is my friend. It's one of those rare bonds. Like some cats are just cats, but some cats are friends. Perper and I are friends. She's been with me through some of the worst years of my life. When I have panic attacks, she does her best to fight them. Even if it involves biting my face. Hey, it works. So, she's been the best friend I could ask for but I've failed her and now she might die. And she's alone with strangers in a strange place full of dogs and other cats. She hates all those things. All she knows is that she's sick and I'm not there and it's killing me. I just want her back.
So I'm not religious. I don't have anyone to pray to. But, I wouldn't turn down prayers for Perper or any other kind of good energy you could send her way.