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Kitty-Cat Troubles
Oct. 17th, 2009 03:51 pm#1 Cat, Pepper, has been in hospital since last Friday with a diagnosis of idiopathic chylothorax (lymph fluid draining into the chest cavity, causing pressure on the organs). Idiopathic means "no known cause". She's on a drug called rutin, which is apparently the one drug for treating it, and has been in an oxygen cage since her admission last week. Her kidneys were compromised by Monday, however, and that's when the vet began the euthanasia conversation with me, but we tabled it after her kidney tests bounced back once the vet took her off the diuretic (lasix) that she was on. Her kidneys are back to normal as of yesterday. Since Monday I've seen her almost every morning and each time she seems to be better. Today I visited her with the cage open for 10 minutes or so, and she didn't slip into the labored breathing that made me bring her in to the vet in the first place at all during that time. That's a good sign. Also good sign, the vet was even making noises about her coming home and seeing how she functions on just the rutin for a week or so and then talking about surgery.
What's an odd-possibly-bad sign as of yesterday afternoon, however, is that with the second thoracic tap done to vacuum out the fluid from her chest cavity (only 70 mL this time rather than 200mL a week ago, itself a good thing) the fluid has changed. The vet's term was serosanguine, meaning not just lymphocytes but red blood cells in the fluid. (And a little scarring on the lungs cause by the fluid (not unexpected, realistically).) So, cancer is suddenly back on the table as a cause of the chylothorax (the other was heart disease, but we've eliminated that), although there are no tumors visible to indicate such, and the euthanasia conversation is back on the table as well.
Idiopathic controlled with rutin (or disappearing as mysteriously as it occurred, which can happen according to the literature) is the thing to hope for at this point, since rutin can be bought at health food stores (weirdly enough), because if Pepper has cancer or needs surgery for the chylothorax (a possibility but there's not a great survival rate anyway, about 50%, it's like open-heart surgery, basically), I can't afford to treat her, almost surely, but I don't know how I can live with myself killing an animal simply because of running out of money. I cannot conceive of that as a moral act. The straits are desperate, the bill is high and getting higher, once it hits a certain number I am seriously fucked financially because that's means the XXXXX credit card is maxed out, leaving only the few thousand (literally "few") I can get out of my (nigh-worthless fucking) 401(k).
Result: I am a daily resident of the Pit of Despair.
If you have extra money to throw at me, know a drug ring hiring, a third world dictator with a bounty on his head, or maybe an insecure bank I can knock off, now's the time.
What's an odd-possibly-bad sign as of yesterday afternoon, however, is that with the second thoracic tap done to vacuum out the fluid from her chest cavity (only 70 mL this time rather than 200mL a week ago, itself a good thing) the fluid has changed. The vet's term was serosanguine, meaning not just lymphocytes but red blood cells in the fluid. (And a little scarring on the lungs cause by the fluid (not unexpected, realistically).) So, cancer is suddenly back on the table as a cause of the chylothorax (the other was heart disease, but we've eliminated that), although there are no tumors visible to indicate such, and the euthanasia conversation is back on the table as well.
Idiopathic controlled with rutin (or disappearing as mysteriously as it occurred, which can happen according to the literature) is the thing to hope for at this point, since rutin can be bought at health food stores (weirdly enough), because if Pepper has cancer or needs surgery for the chylothorax (a possibility but there's not a great survival rate anyway, about 50%, it's like open-heart surgery, basically), I can't afford to treat her, almost surely, but I don't know how I can live with myself killing an animal simply because of running out of money. I cannot conceive of that as a moral act. The straits are desperate, the bill is high and getting higher, once it hits a certain number I am seriously fucked financially because that's means the XXXXX credit card is maxed out, leaving only the few thousand (literally "few") I can get out of my (nigh-worthless fucking) 401(k).
Result: I am a daily resident of the Pit of Despair.
If you have extra money to throw at me, know a drug ring hiring, a third world dictator with a bounty on his head, or maybe an insecure bank I can knock off, now's the time.