I took Jesper in to the vet this morning. He was sick everywhere last night, and he was getting more and more lethargic. He slept pressed against my back again, with his little hot breath in my hair... I knew he was getting sicker.
I woke up this morning and he was still happy, but he missed the counter when he jumped for it. I did my usual morning routine thing, put his carrier out, and he went right in as happy as a clam. We headed out to North Raleigh together!
I told the vet about his symptoms and habits, and she felt his abdomen - his intestines felt normal. But when she took his temperature, she discovered that he was running a high fever, and told me that I should probably have him x-rayed. I consented.
She brought him back to me and was very concerned. All of the vet techs were with her, and she said that she was waiting for the other DVMs to finish up with whatever tasks they were into so that they could consult. In the meantime, they took Jesper back to do a high-powered x-ray. I got more and more nervous.
The vet returned with the latest x-ray, and showed me where Jesper's little stomach was swollen twice the size it should be, with a bulge that looked like it was full of metal bits and something else. She said that emergency surgery was required immediately if I wanted him to live (OF COURSE I DO YOU RETARD WOMAN), and that I wouldn't need to sign for pre-op bloodwork because they had already anesthetized him for surgery (since they could obviously tell how much I loved him). It would cost between $700 and $1000. I burst into tears and there was an officewide group hug (with some random guy included) with me in the middle. I asked the vet to promise that he'd be OK, but she said she couldn't promise anything, but that she KNEW he'd be fine. I drove to work in jeans and sweatshirt and I barely remember getting there.
I just got a call from the vet who operated on Jesper, and he said Jesper was out of surgery and doing just fine. He had eaten a big ball of hair, a dryer sheet, some "metal strips," and a large wad of navy blue fabric of some kind. It's probably one of the most expensive balls of crap I've ever heard of in my life.
No birthday for me. Must pay for Jessy's bad dining decisions.
1 year ago
5 comments:
Oh god! I'm so glad to hear he's okay! It's hard to imagine a kitty wanting to eat all that junk... I wonder what the 'metal strips' were! My Azurel decided to eat a bunch of fishing line (sans hook) last summer and I remember how freaked out I was at the vet waiting for them to check her out. This must have been horrible for you and Jesper!
Oh no! Unfortunate kitty accidents!! Wow! Poor affectionate Jesper!
WHY would he be hungry for metal, hair and fabric?! Unfortunately, my cat:
a) is insane
b) is insane
c) has the attention span of a small bug or maybe a fish on a good day
d) has about 4 thoughts in his brain at any one time: be as annoying as possible, where's the food, where's the litter box, and ATTACK
e) has no sense.
I guess the combination of those things results in yesterday's fiasco. I hope he learns from his mistakes! The vet says he's seen the same cat 2 and 3 times even for the same procedure... Let's hope Jesper isn't going to be onne of those cats...
Did Azurel pass the fishing line all on her own?
Yes she did! We found a poop-necklace in the litter box one morning. It turns out she didn't eat quite as much as we were afraid.
good thing it wasn't what we call a poop-train, which is what happens when poop-necklace does not, ahem, fully emerge, but instead drags behind the unfortunate victim, most likely becoming the catalyst for a terrified rampage. at various points during this rampage, "cars" on this "train" become dislodged in very inconvenient places.
Icarus used to have Poo-Train Syndrome.
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