The Cat in the Plastic Bubble
This is maybe not the best year for cats. The last nine days of (mostly) hell:
Lola got sick rather suddenly, stopped eating, became very lethargic, her breathing quite labored. We took her to a pet hospital on Thursday; it became clear her breathing was the major issue, though on Thursday they weren't too alarmed after measuring her oxygenation. Just as well they kept her overnight though, as she declined severely Friday morning. She was put into what they call an oxygen cage. Or as we soon came to refer to it, the bankruptcy cage. And the ordeal started in earnest. They determined that Lola had some sort of lung infection, but the immediate difficulty was ascertaining what kind of infection. They couldn't put her under a general anesthetic because due to her breathing difficulty, she likely wouldn't survive it. So they had to mildly sedate her so they could stick a needle in her chest to get a sample to analyze. This was less precise but the best option available. Initial tests were inconclusive, so they sent samples to a lab to grow cultures to hopefully get some answers. The rub: results from this would take several days.
In the meantime we visited Lola every day, and they started her on broad spectrum antibiotics. Essentially, the hope was this was what she needed anyway, though they needed the cultures results to be sure of this. So the oxygen cage, as hinted above, is rather expensive. Though we were determined not to ultimately let money decide fate, the reality was also that this was not a situation that could go on indefinitely (i.e., Lola in the oxygen cage 24/7). So we had the dual stresses of, is Lola going to die, and how much the financial damage was mounting by the day. Visiting Lola was good and at the same time hard. Good in that she always perked up when we came, and that it was clear that in the cage with heightened oxygen, she wasn't suffering. But the latter is also what made it hard. The head trip is that we were visiting our cat who A) was not noticeably suffering, and B) was nevertheless in a dire situation. The cage created its own false reality. It's essentially a large crate of glass, big enough for a cat to move around in, and with two portals that we could open so we could reach in and pet Lola. In it, every day she looked like we could just take her home. But outside it in regular air, she would almost immediately go back to very labored breathing.
So the daily routine became, wait for a call in the morning to Mary-Jane's work with an update, which she would then call me at work to relay any info, and after work drive to San Leandro for a visit and further update. The ongoing hell became hearing, day after day, some variation on, "she's doing about the same". Also that no, the cultures results weren't back yet. The thing to understand is, "doing about the same" was not good news, or even neutral. Lola had to improve, significantly, to have any chance of surviving. Each day of "doing about the same" felt like inching closer to an execution date. The money issue would force itself back into our brains. Lola did improve slightly, as far as her breaths per minute, and the percentage of oxygen the cage needed, as days went by. Just not enough. We'd ask, is the improvement enough to get her out of the cage? No, not yet. Despite all our rage, she was still just a cat in a cage. (Sorry.)
There were two days, Monday, and then again Wednesday, when despair sank in and we were convinced Lola wasn't going to make it. Wednesday's visit, as it happened, the pet hospital was extremely busy (the nature of any emergency room), so we could only make a brief visit, but the doctor couldn't see us unless we wanted to wait a very long time. So we left and told them we'd call later that evening for an update, which was fine. I called after 10 p.m. and pressed one of the doctors (Lola's main doctor had left by then) about weaning Lola off the cage. And this time, instead of the usual answer, they seemed to think they could try that. Thursday morning, at long last: qualified good news. Lola was off oxygen for ninety minutes and did ok. She had to go back on it after, but still. And: the cultures results came in, and confirmed that the antibiotics she'd been on almost a week were the right treatment. (Bacterial infection. Origin, unknown.) Thursday after work, the discussion with her doctor actually involved us taking Lola home on Friday, possibly. And Lola actually tried to climb thru the portals for the first time. Friday came, and Lola was off oxygen and doing fine. Late afternoon, we came and got her. Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So miss cat is back home. We have to give her oral antibiotics, and we'll bring her back to the pet hospital in several days for another chest x-ray. We are watching her breathing closely, and how much damage there was to her lungs is still unknown. But, for now, a happy ending we didn't always think we'd see. Insane props to Lola's savior, Dr. Panek (like Pascoe's doctors a year ago, another female and rather young star of the veterinary world). And to Lola, for hanging on and rallying like a warrior.
In a related development, the pet hospital now owns our house, and currently we're residing in a doorway near a liquor store on East 14th St.
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(Anonymous)
2009-05-24 12:42
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Oh, man, Kirk. I'm so sorry that you, Mary-Jane, and especially Lola, are going through this. At least the treatments seem to have done some good. Keep us informed, and we'll keep your kitty in our thoughts.
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