Neville’s visit to the hospital has put him on a kind of health-watch. The doctor is worried that my foster-cat will develop ‘fatty liver’ over the weekend, due to his inappetence, so I am force-feeding him. This won’t result in a whole tin of food being put into his stomach each day, as the doctor would like to see, but it will keep Neville’s organs working. In addition, I am giving him sub-cutaneous fluids, a kind of oral Cerenia, and two kinds of anti-biotic, all twice a day. I am also to watch for signs of jaundice. And I must continue to give him his insulin.
The fluids have gone quite well, surprisingly. The Nevsky didn’t make a fuss at all. The force-feeding is another matter, though the second time proceeded better. One medicine foams a great deal; I give that to my patient last, a sequence learned from the first instance. All this unwelcome attention has made Neville quite shy of me, and worried that I am coming to inflict some torment upon him whenever I pass near. That unfortunately cannot be helped. I hope that he will realise the schedule I have adopted for his treatments, and not fear me all the time.
All of this is due to something which we haven’t yet uncovered. The fear of ‘fatty liver’ is due to his refusal to eat, but the cause of the latter remains a mystery. Nev will be returning to the hospital for more tests, and possibly an x-ray. I fear cancer, of course, as that is prevalent these days, and my friend Parker died of a cancer that initially started growing on his liver.
But at the time of writing, Neville has eaten some on his own, and recovered a little. He is not well, though I remain hopeful of a full return to the vigour of his recent past. I continue his health-watch…