I could have entitled this blog post, "Sorry LO, No Ivy League School for You," or "Keep the Tab OPEN," or "How We Went Bankrupt," or "When a Grown Man Weeps and Pretends He Has Allergies."
Surprise, surprise, the whole IV and force feeding an eight pound cat didn't work out. I hustled all of her meds and feedings on Monday to be greeted with vomit and a sad looking dirty ass cat. So I checked her into the hospital on Monday night as DH couldn't bear to do it. It was like trying to pump water into a rock as nothing seems to be working. So they called me on Tuesday and she was doing great, eating on her own and improving and then today they called and she is regressing. I went to the vet this evening intending to have the vet put her down as we are two Gs deep at this point and she is not responding. So they let me sit with her while they were totaling my bill and it was so sad. Her little paw had a cuff on it for the IV and she was so happy to see me. I cried a little tear for her.
They took me in a private room to show me the bill and to make sure that they could restrain and sedate me if necessary. I walked out and the decision had been made for me as we simply can't afford to go on. I talked to DH and he was so sad and then I came home and sat with DH for awhile and we made the decision that we are family of five. He did a little happy dance in his head and cracked a little boy smile which was quickly masked with his stern man look. She has a 70% chance of survival and that is good enough for us. She is a family member and we love her. Yes, we are crazy and I never thought we would be the kind of people that did this kind of shite but she is on our damn holiday cards.
3 years ago