Forty-nine Weeks

Today, things are getting back to normal in more ways than one. Cammie seems well; last night, she visited the litter-box after I went to bed. I checked and saw that she had wet and pooped. I am a bit concerned that she is going to the boxes only once a day. As Kari, in a comment, pointed out, one big visit may be unusual. Trying to recall, I think it is. However, Cammie had been without food and water for a couple of days and only small amounts of both for a two days after that. She may have had need of much of it. But I will be watching her visits nonetheless, and speaking to the veterinarian about it today.

Unfortunately, the other part of normal is work: I’m back at it. Not only does this cut into the enjoyable things in my life, but it keeps me away from home so I can’t keep an eye on Cammie. I am glad that she recovered from the worst of her ordeal before my holidays ended.

My three weeks off were very good. I accomplished a great deal around the new apartment, though there was certainly less to do than at the old house. I was able to relax, read, write, watch movies, listen to music and spend the time with the beasts that they deserved. I was also able to clean the cat-trees. I took so much fur off of them that I could have constructed a fifth cat. I think I’ll call him Follicle. It was funny seeing the cats go to their familiar spots and smell them, wondering where their scents had gone. But everything is back to normal in that regard, too.

And so I await my next holidays. They are, after all, just forty-nine weeks away. Until then, I may feel a little bit restricted in my freedom and activities, a little bit caged. My life is a good one, but not entirely my own. Rather like that of a house-cat…

Health, One Day at a Time

All the best wishes and good thoughts worked: Cammie is much improved today. I waited all yesterday for her to visit the litter-boxes. She didn’t move from her favourite cat-tree once during the daylight, so I brought food and water to her there. She ate small portions (I kept them small) through the day, and drank.

The lack of urination concerned me; I suppose it was good that it was not the opposite, repeated attempts to go that produced no result. After I went to bed, I couldn’t sleep; I knew she would go to the litter-boxes eventually because she started wandering. Sure enough, at 1.30, she wet in the litter-box. After she finished, I checked the result; I had been scooping the boxes after every other cat had used it, so I would know what deposit was the princess’s. She had left a big lump of urine in the litter, the size of her head. I was able to sleep after that.

When I woke at six to give Tucker his injection, Cammie was at the hard-food bowl. She followed this by eating a good soft-food breakfast. I have been feeding her little amounts since then. She has drunk water on her own. She hid again today but I think that either she is not fully recovered from her ordeal (which is likely) or she simply finds the corner of the library behind books where no one can get to her restful. She came out twice, once when I lie down and patted my chest (she lie on me for about fifteen minutes purring) and again when I opened the window; she emerged for the fresh air. So I didn’t worry much about her hiding. She has wandered about the apartment today, like a convalescent roaming the hospital corridors in her pyjamas and robe, just to get out of her room. 

I don’t know what this condition was. It doesn’t appear to have been cystitis. It may have been a simple infection - the veterinarian had suggested that it was a minor one – that was cured quickly by the Clavamox, which then caused its own problems. I will definitely watch for signs of a recurrence. I still have the Veraflox but will not use it, as there seems little point in treating a problem that appears to be gone, or at least in retreat. I will be speaking to Cammie’s doctor about this tomorrow. For now, the princess is feeling good. She is no longer nailed to her cat-tree or secluded behind bookcases. She is, at this moment, lying on the bed in the full blaze of the evening sun. She just ate another satisfying portion of food, and I await her next urination (really, that’s constitutes an event in my life.)

Another crisis seems to have been staved off, though, as I wrote to a friend today, a cat’s health seems to be a matter of one day at a time. Well, this day has been a very good one.

Toes, by Way of Diversion

Though Cammie continues to be of concern to me, things are, right now, improving. She did not want breakfast this morning so, in order to keep her fed, I delivered a very tasty concoction of Recovery and water by syringe. After that, the princess went into seclusion again, though I could tell that it was not the same discouragement-induced hiding as previous. When I returned from errands at three o’clock, she was out, and ate with the rest of the beasts: in her case, two small helpings of Fancy Feast. In the next four hours, she ate two more such portions and drank some water. She has not used the litter-box today, which is a bit worrisome, but I will keep the litter scooped in order to tell what she deposits there when the time comes.

I want to thank everyone for their comments and best wishes. I will be talking to the veterinarian about cystosis on Monday. Depending on what Cammie leaves in the litter-box this weekend, I may start her on the Veraflox, but I would rather not, if it isn’t necessary.

Now, just to show that not everything is serious in the household, here are some pictures of my big boy, a long and heavy cat who enjoys stuffing himself into the cylinder-house cat-tree. How does he do it? Why, his feet get left out, literally. So, I present to you Renn, and his many toes, for your viewing pleasure.

 

The Turn of Events

Things have not remained static here during the last couple of days. The last I wrote of Cammie was that the Clavamox prescribed for her intestinal infection was making her vomit. The next day, I spoke with the veterinarian, who recommended that a newer anti-biotic called Veraflox supplant the Clavamox. (There must be a specific department in pharmaceutical companies staffed by people who do nothing but make up drug names that sound like aliens from Star Trek.) The doctor also gave me the option of having Cammie injected with Cerenia, an anti-emetic, to keep her from vomiting. (That one is more like a planet the “Enterprise” visits than a person.)

Yesterday, Cammie seemed to be improving. She did not throw up most of the day and, though her intake was very slight, she ate a tiny amount of soft-food and drank a modicum of water – as long as I hand-delivered it. She didn’t stir from her cat-tree. I filled the role of cup-bearer to Her Serene Highness. Later, I collected the Veraflox without bringing Cammie to the hospital. But that night, she threw up. And very early the next morning. And not long after that.

To the hospital she and I returned. She received her shot of Cerenia. While there, the doctor told me that in some cases, Clavamox’s effects last up to 72 hours after a final dose; indeed, though Cammie had deposited a well-formed golfball-sized lump of urine in a litter-box, she also left some very formless feces. The doctor suggested some FortiFlora pro-biotic to counteract the latter. I knew my cat would not consume that in or on her food under regular conditions, but I would be feeding her by syringe, and it could be included in the mixture. As well, the doctor wanted to see if Cammie could supply a better sample of urine than was obtained during the previous appointment. This was a good idea and done for free. The princess and I went home, where I incurred her wrath an hour later by force-feeding her some Recovery convalescent food by syringe.

The veterinarian called with the urinalysis results in the late afternoon. In a twist to the plot, almost nothing adverse was shown in the tests. Cammie appeared healthy. The infection seemed to have vanished. The doctor was surprised, and expressed doubt that the Clavamox could have solved the problem so quickly. However, as the need no longer was apparent, she thought application of the new Veraflox could be postponed.

Had there been an infection? I think there must have, considering Cammie’s symptoms. Was the Clavamox responsible for her vomiting? Again, I fear that to be the case; though the princess is no stranger to the retrograde movement of food, the coincidence of anti-biotic and nearly immediate upchucking was too great to ignore.

Where do we stand now? On slightly higher ground, I’m guardedly pleased to write. Cammie has endured two helpings of syringe-delivered food: good, nutritious food, mixed with water. She has not thrown up since early this morning. She spent most of the day hiding and acting quite depressed (after all, she had been carted off to hospital twice in three days, stabbed with three needles (two samples of urine taken and a shot of medicine), had unwelcome food shoved down her throat twice. All that’s needed is for me to try to cut her claws. But she is out of seclusion and lying on her favourite cat-tree.

And, as important as not vomiting, she has drunk water on her own and even eaten a tiny amount of soft-food this evening. I will try some more of both before bedtime. Some wishes for continued movement in this direction would be appreciated. The events having turned, I don’t want them turning back again.

Tribulations Continue

Cammie is not responding as I had hoped after taking the Clavamox. In fact, she seems worse. It may be that her body simply dislikes the medicine and rejects it.

After a very early morning that promised improvement – she ate a small soft-food breakfast – Cammie began throwing up. She would eat or drink nothing, but vomited five times throughout the day; some of it has been pinkish with blood. She did consent to eat a very small amount an hour ago, but threw it up again a few minutes later. The same fate was suffered by some water I put into her by syringe. I won’t offer any more food to her until morning.

I called the animal hospital this evening, after hours. Fortunately, they have an emergency answering service and an on-call doctor. She advised me not to give Cammie any more Clavamox, and would report the situation to Cammie’s doctor in the morning. That veterinarian will then contact me.

Another cat I know of could not tolerate Clavamox, but could take clindamycin. I don’t know if that medicine will be suggested. Whatever the prescription, I hope it helps my princess. She is having a rough time right now. She hid for much of the day, but I managed to coax her out from behind the library’s bookcases by lying on my back and patting my chest. It took five minutes of encouragement, but she came out and lie on me, purring weakly. After that, she spent some time by the open window and is now on her favourite cat-tree, snoozing. I think that being out with the rest of us, and getting fresh air, is better than hiding, if only psychologically (and maybe just better for me.)

The heat that has been oppressing southern Alberta for a few days (37° Celsius (98.6° Fahrenheit)) has relented, and we had a thunderstorm tonight. The cats were frightened but it cooled the apartment, and a fresh breeze is keeping things pleasant. I feel that that too is good for Cammie.

Tomorrow will bring another consultation with the veterinarian. With luck, Cammie won’t need to visit the hospital again, and I can pick up some better medicine for her on my own. A haughty and healthy princess is what I want for my weekend.