Gracie update 10: The specialist edition

So we get to the specialist’s office very early this morning, because I was up early this morning, what with having gone to bed early last night, what with being exhausted from a week and a half of sleep debt, and also because I figured it was better to sit around the vet’s office waiting and worrying than to stay home waiting and worrying and on top of that, wondering if I was going to be late. I brought Gracie’s series of X-Rays, and my vet had faxed over her charts.

The specialist’s office looks like nothing less than a fancy clinic for wealthy people who would never deign to use medical insurance to pay their bills. It did not look like a vet’s office, well, except for all of the cat and dog paintings (really tacky ones) all over, and the coverings on the benches. Apparently there are seven vets in the morning, and a staff of three office workers is necessary. I filled out the forms, leaving blank, as always, the space for my SSN (and eff them for even thinking of asking it, and in fact, eff the people who seem to think an SSN belongs on any kind of veterinary patient information to begin with), signed in, waited in the office while various and sundry dogs went in and out, then it was our turn. We were shown to a room and left. I opened the door to Gracie’s carrier. She stuck her head out, said, “Shit! It’s another vet’s office!” and immediately turned around and went to the far end of the carrier, which made me laugh for a good two minutes. Maybe you had to be there, but I found it hilarious.

The vet came in and Gracie refused to come out. We tried upending the carrier. She used her claws and spread her back legs. We wound up having to take it apart, which made me remember that it came in two pieces. I’d forgotten it even did that. The vet palpated this and listened to that, checked her gums and her mouth, declared her not to be dehydrated at all, and we discussed the case. Once again the fact that my vet didn’t do the biopsy came into play. I’m beginning to understand that it was a major screw-up, and yet, I have no desire whatsoever to let them go back into my Sweetness with a knife, because she’s getting better. I asked how much an endoscopy would cost (which would also get a biopsy), and she told me they’d charge about $1400. That’s about $1000 more than most places would charge for one. Pass.

“I can’t afford you,” I told her. “At all.” (Not true, I could afford the one-time visit fee, which is all they’re getting from me. And thanks again, those of you who have hit the tipjars. Very, VERY helpful.)

She talked about the various things that may be causing Gracie to vomit, and it seems that nearly all of them would require that damned biopsy to diagnose. Once again, no to the surgery, even though my vet will do it for free. I simply don’t want to put her through that again right now. The big danger is that she’s not eating, and there’s some -osis that goes with liver problems for cats if they don’t eat, especially if they’re overweight, and Gracie is. But again, how can we proceed? We can’t force-feed her. She’d just throw it up. She isn’t eating anything I’ve offered. It may be a parasite, the specialist said, but once again, biopsy. Once again, no. Treatment? She has to have stuff sprinkled on her food or forced down her throat. Nausea. Vomiting. Uh-huh.

So I asked about dehydration, and said that I’d learned how to give Gracie shots ages ago when we tried to cure her allergies, and I’d be happy to do a subcutaneous IV if needed. The specialists don’t allow that, she said, but she didn’t know my vet’s policy. Discuss it with them. She said she’d type up a report and fax it over to my vet, and that she was going to send in a tech to take Gracie’s pulse and temperature. I told her she was not sticking another thing anywhere into Gracie, that she has no temperature, that she has had no temperature through this entire mystery ailment, and that she’s been through more than enough, and the tech could take her pulse and breath rate and that was it. And that was what happened. Then we went to my regular vet, who gave me a bag of IV fluid and showed me how to use it, and who was glad I was taking Gracie home because she thought she’d heal better there, and who wants me to call her every day and report in until Gracie gets better.

The good news is that Gracie hasn’t vomited in over 24 hours, and the last time was when Tig threatened her. She’s definitely still nauseous. I went to the supermarket on the way home and bought two different kinds of Fancy Feast and two different kinds of baby foods. I offered her regular food and water first, then opened the tuna-flavor Fancy Feast. Gracie seemed VERY interested in it, but then had the little burp thing that seems to indicate a reflux of some sort and which the vet says means she’s still nauseous. So I put it away, and am hoping for better results tomorrow.

She’s sleeping, mostly. She woke up when I came home from religious school and hid. She thought I was going to take her back to the vet’s. Tomorrow, I’m putting her in the spare room, which she likes a lot anyway, with food and water and a litterbox, and locking Tig out. He’s getting less nasty to her, but he’s not there yet. I locked him in my bedroom while I taught today (never got to work, what with not getting home from the vet’s until one—I’d have had to leave work at 3:30 to teach anyway). I tricked him into getting under the covers and quietly closed the door behind me. He never even noticed. He was too busy purring and faux-nursing on the fuzzy blanket under the quilt. Being taken away from their mother at ten days old made Gracie neurotic, and Tig seek his mother in everything soft and fuzzy.

In any case. I get that my vet should have done the biopsy, but she didn’t, and I’m not going to hold it against her, because Gracie is improving. If it comes to the point where that’s our only solution left, she’s already said she will do the procedure again at no cost to me. Fair enough. Right now, I’m just going to let Gracie sleep and rest and relax, and hopefully eat. I will mark the food dishes or weigh them or something, and hope for the best when I leave for work tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure the blinds are open so she can get the late afternoon sun, and put towels down so she can nest.

I’m not worried that she’s going to die anymore. If I can just get her to EAT!

Thanks again for all the good thoughts and wishes and prayers. They seem to be working.