The Vet was thrilled. Sally came through the surgery with flying colors. Three hours and every diseased tooth removed and when he turned around there she was up, perky, butting her head against the cage.
I took her home. The next day she was sniffling. I took her back. “Oh, it’s Herpes. Most cats have latent herpes and when they’re stressed it becomes active. Just give her two pumps of this and she’ll be fine.”
Two days later, she is barely breathing, making a frightening honking sound, desperate to get air. My neighbor and I take her to the Emergency Animal Hospital. She has an upper respiratory infection. She’s in pain from her gums as well. She will not eat. For two days they fill her with antibiotics, hydrate and nebulize her to clear her air passages. I go home with pain medication and an appetite enhancer. She will not look at food. She is diabetic. She can’t have insulin unless she’s eating.
The Vet who performed the surgery calls. He wants to do anything he can to help her get well. He comes in on Monday, his day off. It seems that a suture broke in her gum and bacteria entered her body causing the infection.
He tries a cold laser treatment through her lip and also on her nose to help her to breath. I take her home. I bring her back.
He surgically fixes the broken suture. A feeding tube is inserted. I must feed her food, small amounts, five times a day through the tube. Also two kinds of antibiotics have to be pushed into the tube with a syringe and she is to be nebulized three times a day. She doesn’t want to be nebulized. Pain medication for her gum. Insulin for her diabetes…I forgot the appetite enhancer.
She is very small. She needed to be fitted with a small feeding tube. It has a cap, which has to be turned counterclockwise to open or perhaps to close. It doesn’t matter because the cap is just a bit too big for the tube. I can barely get it in and out. The syringe is too big for the tube. Instead of fitting down into the tube, I have to balance it and send the watered down food through it, splashing Sally. Sally is weak. I wake up and the bed is urine soaked. She can’t quite make it to the litter box; She lies under the covers pressed against me.
On Wednesday, November 18 I leave her at home alone for a few hours while I go to the bank and do a few errands. When I come home she is up. She stands under the kitchen table, a signal that she is hungry. I feed her a small amount of real food. I am ecstatic. Later she eats again. And then later she stops eating and her breathing passages sound clogged.
Friday morning I bring her to the vet for the day. A vet who I haven’t seen before wonders why she is taking two antibiotics. It is not a good idea to take two at once. This evening I will pick her up and take her home. Perhaps for the last time.
I’ve read about MDs who want to try everything to keep their human patients alive, past the point where it would make sense to stop, but I understand the impulse. Maybe the medicine will win against the infection. Perhaps the Vet feels he shouldn’t have performed this surgery on such an old cat, but her mouth was so diseased…Perhaps he should have fixed the broken suture surgically sooner. Perhaps.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have made the decision to allow the surgery. A lot of sadness and regret to go around. Goodbye Sally Cookie. You were the best.
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