Another day off from work. Can only picture colleagues gathered around water cooler..."Where is she? A cat? Really?"
Great.
TMI ALERT
Anyway, I take Bitey out of his cage at around 6:30 am. I lift him up by his front half and hold him in my arms. Oh, Gravity, you fickle mistress. Bitey, who has really had no trouble in the "Number Two" department, shits all over my exposed leg.
One hour later.
I take Bitey to the local vet to have his bladder expressed. I really have to learn this skill. While Bitey is being squeezed, I glance over at Winky, who is occupying a top level cage in the hospital area. Winky is my favorite orphan cat. Found under a building, he has one horribly red and infected eye. Today however his eye is stapled shut, and he looks even more like the Terminator. Winky is young and alive and happy. It's nice to see.
A few hours later we are on our way back to West LA to see the specialty oncologist.
When the doctor comes into the room, Bitey hisses at him. This is the first time Bitey has ever hissed at a vet (unless of course the vet has his finger up Bitey's bum). The cat must be really tired of doctors. Doc tells me the options, tries to diminish my expectations, and then describes what he will do to attack the mass choking Bitey's spinal cord.
Bitey will receive four radiation treatments, one every Thursday. He will also be started on a chemotherapy protocol. (Promise, names of drugs this weekend!)
Since no pet hospital is large enough for a giant radiation emitting device, the vet takes The Caravan of Cancer Cats over to UCLA. It's like a radioactive field trip.
So the doctor takes Bitey, and I am told to return at 4pm. I spend the time wandering around the Century City mall, then return to the kitty hospital.
The doctor brings Bitey back into the room. He is sacked OUT. This is from the anesthesia needed to keep Bitey perfectly still while he is irradiated. I can just picture this perfect row of anesthetized cats outside the radiation chamber.
One in, ZAP! One out, another in, ZAP!
Anyway, the doctor takes extra time with me to try and teach me how to express Bitey's bladder. He draws diagrams, explains the theory, places my hands in the right place, and is generally extremely patient. (I guess there are bad vets out there somewhere, but I have yet to meet one.)
After being assured that it would take a lot to burst the bladder by over squeezing, and that it wasn't likely I would mistakenly grab hold of a kidney or a spleen, I started feeling around my cat's gut. After much exploration, I am briefly able to grab hold of the squishy round thing that feels like a water balloon. I squeeze, hard, and a little dribble of pee comes out the other end.
It's a start. The vet expresses the rest, and we call it a day. Next appointment is one week from today. Round 2 of radiation and chemo.
We drive home in hellacious traffic, Bitey curled up in a nest of towels on the floor of the car. When we get home, he stays awake long enough to eat. He's not really drinking water with great enthusiasm, so I have to work on that.
tomorrow, I attempt expression!
J
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment