Friday, April 24, 2015

Living Dead Kitty - Part 1



Everyone knows America's healthcare system is unusual at best for a 1st world country, but what it lacks for humans it easily makes up for in our pets.

It was a very interesting experience when my cat suddenly needed medical attention.  My parents fervently believed pets did not deserve medical attention if something catastrophic happened, but we never had many pets and the ones we did have mysteriously disappeared . . . I digress!  What happened to my furry child showed me an aspect of healthcare I never knew existed.

My rescue cat, Gibbs, was just a few weeks old when she was found by a friend.  I've had her ever since, and it's now been 6 years.  She's never had a health problem or even a small hitch - always an ideally healthy cat.

When I moved to a new apartment she was understandably upset.  I didn't think anything of it that she preferred to hide and loaf all day until one day i realized carrying her felt really strange.  she felt lighter, limp I suppose.  No matter what I did to her she did not respond; she simply looked in another direction and zoned out.  Her tongue hung out of her mouth and it was perfectly white.

Weird right?

She also had a strange odor coming from her mouth.  After a few minutes of brooding I decided to take her to see a vet.  She was unnaturally still throughout the entire drive.  When the medical assistant looked at her she immediately took her to the back room where they operate on animals.

Gibbs says no to homework

And no to puzzles


I was really freaking out by then.  An hour goes by - then two - and I'm sitting alone in the exam room thinking they must have forgot me there or something like that but the doctor finally arrives.  She looks like a 20 year old girl.    She says Gibbs is dying; she has mysteriously lost all her blood and is too weak to produce blood on her own.  Without a blood transfusion within the next few hours she'll die for sure.

Gibbs sick at the vet


I went home and brooded.  Do I follow my parents' mantra and let her die?  Or, do I save my devoted companion of the last 6 years?  I survived college only because she sat beside me through the whole thing and brought amusement and joy to me during the darkest times.  A cat who learned to obey commands like a dog!

Finally I decided I would pay the hefty bill to treat her, but that was only the beginning of that awful night.

I apparently had to fetch a blood transfusion for my cat, get her blood tested for a match, and pay for that too.  A little research went a long way.  I found a place in Portland, Oregon called Dove Lewis, a state of the art animal hospital that has cat transfusions at the ready.  I picked up a few samples of Gibb's blood, went downtown to fetch my brother's money, and drove across the Columbia River into Portland during rush hour traffic.  After dodging hipsters here and there, I finally made it to the Pearl district where the fabulous hospital resides.  I handed them the blood samples and they immediately took off to run tests.  I waited there an hour, but when they returned they handed me a brown paper bag with blood and all the equipment necessary for a blood transfusion.  Apparently the cats in the Portland-Metro area are blood related.

$420 dollars later I'm leaving the hospital with a blood transfusion.

I drive it back to Vancouver and to the animal hospital where they take it to the operating room.  Another two hours go by with me sitting there and waiting without an idea of what's happening.  They promised me i could see my cat, but no one came to fetch me.  I hounded the front office staff about her progress, but they simply said they needed more time.  I never thought i would get so concerned about a pet; to go such great lengths to save her.

Finally they let me in the operating room to see Gibbs.  She looked terrible.  She clearly lost her mind and was looking around as though in a fog.  The vet said she was worried Gibbs wouldn't have lasted another hour if I came any later with the blood transfusion.  She let me have a moment alone with Gibbs who didn't recognize me.  Seeing her in such a state was a painful experience.

Eventually I had to call the vet over to me - I had passed out on the floor.  Definitely embarrassing and painful.

I didnt sleep well that night.  In the morning I visited her again and found her in an exceptionally good condition compared to the night before.  She was eating, walking around, and trying to clean herself.  I reached in the cage and she gave me one of those cat hugs.  That night I took her home and had never seen that cat so excited - jumping all over the place, practically climbing the walls.  30 seconds after she was free she fell asleep on her food dish and was fast asleep the whole night.

I'm not sure for whom this was more terrifying: me or her?

~ Chelsea


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