Phoenix

It’s been a rough few days. My male cat suffers from feline idiopathic cystitis. Last Friday night I noticed he was beginning to struggle to urinate. He has had around five episodes of this over the past year. Previously he has been to the vet twice and the other times I have managed his condition at home. By Sunday morning I rushed him to the emergency vet. She confirmed he had a severe flare up and a fever. We were sent home with medication. He continued to struggle and by Tuesday the vet agreed to start antibiotics.

Last night after watching the defeat of the England team I discovered my cat had developed severe diarrhoea. I spent a couple of hours cleaning up after him and trying to keep him calm. I eventually climbed into bed at 2am. At 7am I got up and checked on him. He was so lethargic and was struggling to walk. Back to the vet we went. As the vet listed the procedures he needed I listened to the rising costs. I spoke to the admin team and filled in the credit check forms. They will not allow a monthly payment plan without passing the credit check. I was feeling ok. I’ve never missed payments for anything. Nevertheless my credit check failed and suddenly I’m plunged into deep uncertainty. How cruel that when I should concentrating on his well-being, I’m having to also focus on the finances! The practice manager says I can pay whatever I can today and pay the rest in 30 days. I assure her that if I don’t have £2500 today I certainly won’t have it in 30 days. So they modify the treatment plan.

As I write this tonight, my boy is still in the vet. They are keeping him overnight. This episode will wipe out any savings I have. If he goes into crisis again I will have no choice but euthanasia. I will have failed him because I am poor. I have failed because the system sucks. Banks will happily offer me credit cards and the ability to get into debt. My boys life is on the line and computer says no! I feel so guilty. I have done my best, but my best isn’t good enough.

Whilst waiting for the credit check I went outside in the car park to breathe. There was a man and a woman with their very unwell dog. Complete strangers. Throughout the day the woman and I held each other through the tears. Her dog is elderly and needed to have his eye removed but he also has a host of medical problems. She was waiting to speak to the surgeon to decide whether or to not to proceed with the operation or if it was time to let him go. When I was leaving almost five hours after I arrived I saw her one last time. She had decided to go ahead with his eye operation and to see how he goes. We hugged each other tightly one last time and I wished her and her Henry well. I hope he came through the operation safe and sound.

As for me I am missing my Rocket deeply tonight. I won’t pretend that there’s an element of relief tonight. There’s been so many moments over the last few days when I’ve broken down in tears and wondered how I’m going to keep moving forward. Unfortunately because he was in such distress he had chosen 3 places around the flat to pee and they weren’t his litter trays. So I’ve been constantly mopping up the small puddles that he would strain to do.

The vet said he needed close monitoring tonight and to keep costs down I could bring him home. My tank is empty. My symptoms have severely flared and I need rest. At least tonight I know he is safe. I can get some much needed rest. I hope he has a peaceful night, now that he is stable and the vet has helped him to fully empty his bladder. I will work through my grief and try to get some sleep, and try to calm all those inside me who are frightened of losing our beloved boy. Tomorrow is another day.