Monday, June 23, 2014

(20 DPO) - Sick kitty...

AF is officially three days late. Come on, now. This is ridiculous. In the meantime, I'm so tired I can't keep my eyes open. I nearly fell asleep at the wheel on the way to drop off my rental and get my car from the shop. That's a pregnancy sign for sure, but I still don't believe this is viable. I'm so bummed out. I just wish AF would pop up and give me a break. See that test? Yeah, that was my FMU from this morning. Nadda, right? I keep thinking I see a line but it's most likely just my imagination. Go figure.

In the meantime, Tubbs, our 16-pound kitty, has become very sick. A week or so ago, she started peeing on my daughter's bed, prompting a lot of bleaching, spraying and cleaning on my end. She kept returning to the bed and spraying. Yes, she's spayed. We decided the best option was to close our daughter's bedroom door and have her sleep with us for a few nights while we work on the problem. After all, it's not like we don't have a car accident situation to deal with, a lawyer meet-up and a serious lack of funds due to me missing work to worry over. A cat peeing in inappropriate places was the least of our worries.

Once we closed the door to SJ's bedroom, Tubbs went right into the bathroom and peed all over the floor, one foot away from her litter box. What a spiteful little thing, we thought. My husband reacted by tossing her on the front porch. She's not an outdoor kitty, mind you, but we live in the country so she wasn't really in danger of getting hit. She sat on the porch and meowed pitifully. After about an hour, I felt pity on the kitty and brought her back in. After that, she decided to behave for a couple days. Then this morning, we woke up to discover her sleeping on the kitchen floor. She looked very rough. It was strange seeing her in the kitchen, since her
normal hang out is on top of the couch in the living room. I petted her and loved on her. We realized she was pretty sick and we needed to get her some help. Since we had to leave early to exchange vehicles, we decided to get it done once we got home. I called ahead to the shelter we adopted her from and let them know we were coming (they have a vet clinic inside). By the time we got back, however, Tubbs was looking even worse. She hadn't moved from her spot on the kitchen floor. Not a good sign.
I moved her over to the couch so she'd be comfy while we got everything together. While my husband was getting our daughter dressed to go see her grandma, I was trying to find our cat carrier. I came back into the living room, stumped, and then I witnessed poor Tubbs attempt to vomit, but all she could get out was bile. Afterwards, she collapsed down the back of the couch. I ran to get her. Her legs were up in the air and she was barely breathing. I said "forget the carrier, I'm getting a blanket." So I grabbed one of SJ's old blankets, wrapped Tubbs up and hurried to the truck. I put her in the seat next to me. She was barely alive at this point. I rushed as fast as I could to the vet clinic, which is pretty hard when you drive a manual and traffic is horrible.

So we get there, I come rushing in, and they tell me to have a seat. After waiting for nearly 45 minutes, I went up to the secretary and told her my cat was near death at this point. They finally rushed her back, but I wasn't allowed to go. I sat in the waiting room for 15 minutes before a nurse came out and told me the prognosis was grim. They didn't know what was wrong with her and they didn't have the facilities to properly care for her since they're a non-profit organization. God. I started crying. They took me back to see her, where they had her hooked up to an IV and an oxygen mask. They told me that her sister, Sissy, the cat we didn't take, was in there a few days prior with the same symptoms. I was relieved to hear it was likely not something we did wrong but I was upset to know we were the ones who separated her from her sister. I had to remind myself that we wanted to take Sissy but she wouldn't go in a box and had an all-around horrible attitude and it was the shelter assistant who said she'd be willing to separate the two.

So we narrowed it down to separation issues or a UTI due to the peeing everywhere or a combination of both. Her temperature had dropped to a dangerous 94 degrees (when normal for a cat is 100-101). I had to sign her over to them since I have $2 to my name. I felt terrible but they re-assured me it was the best thing for her. I made them promise to contact me if she died or if she lived. They said if she lived, they would give me the opportunity to re-adopt her. 

I left the shelter crying. At least I got to say goodbye. I truly felt terrible. I really loved that cat.

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