Oh Kitty

Our kitty, Niamh, saw her vet in Fresno last May, about a month before our cross-county trip.  She had one last check up from Dr. Gary and got a clean bill of health, considering her blind eye and the tic in her tail that's left over damage from being hit by a car in kittenhood.  "A little gingivitis," said the doc, "but nothing to get excited about."  He updated her shots and gave us a prescription for travel tranqs and we were set to go.

Look at her cute mouth!

We hadn't made finding a new vet a priority here in the New World, thinking it would be a while before we needed to renew those shots.  That changed  last Tuesday evening, one week ago today, when I stroked Niamh's face and she growled at me.  She growled at me!  Now, Niamh is not the snuggliest kitty in the world and doesn't seek out physical affection, but she doesn't growl at me.  I made a mental note to pet her again the same way in the morning to see if her reaction would be the same.  It was.

Immediately I found the number for the vet just down the road from us and put it in my phone so I could make an appointment as soon as they opened.  Then, when Niamh tried to eat her breakfast, she took a bite and cried out, then hid.  Oh my.  I was on the phone at 8am and we were in the vet's office by 10.

Diagnosis:  growth in the mouth, likely an abscess, bad gingivitis . . . something looks a little funny, but it's probably just dental problems, she needs oral surgery.  Big breath.  Okay.  Schedule it for next Wednesday and in the meantime give her this antibiotic and this painkiller.  She should be feeling great by Friday and if not, call right away.

Friday morning:  the cat is not better at all and we go back to the vet.  The first doctor is out today and we see the doctor who will be doing the surgery.  She orders a blood test and prescribes a different antibiotic.  A look in the kitty's mouth brought a very worried look to the doctor's face.  "We may," she said, "be looking at more than dental problems.  I'll call you with blood test results."

Friday night:  blood test results show a very low white blood cell count and low platelet levels.  The doctor is alarmed and wants the tests redone in the morning.

Saturday morning:  the weekend doc is in, redoes the test and we wait for results.  They are the same, and that is bad news.  Surgery is canceled because of the low platelet count (it's a bleeding problem).  This doctor also examines Niamh's mouth, calls the surgeon to confer, then adds prednisone to her pharmacopeia. Instructions are to talk to the surgeon on Monday.

Monday:  long, long talk on the phone.  The great news is that the platelet count problem has been cleared up - the test was misread or something, and so surgery can be rescheduled.  The bad news is the white cell count.  It's dangerously, frighteningly low.  Best case scenario is a suppressed cell count because the mouth infection is so severe.  Worst case is cancer.  As our conversation continues through all possibilities of treatments and outcomes, from biopsies to bone marrow aspirations to 'wait and see,' I'm thinking of my 18 year old kitty, Myla, who had oral cancer, and who, in the end, we had to put to sleep.

Curl up and get better, kitty

Today:  we ponder.  I'll see the surgeon tomorrow to make a decision, at least the decision for now.  Niamh has responded well to her medicines - she's eating like a champ, grooming herself, no apparent pain.  She is such a trooper and such a survivor, and although I want to give her every chance, I can't imagine putting her through treatments that may not extend her life but would only prolong her dying.  If her problem is nothing more than dental in nature, her medications will raise that white cell count after a time, we'll feel sure that there is no cancer and then we'll schedule the dental surgery.  If the white count does not come up, then we'll know our focus will be palliative care.  We'd know sooner with a biopsy, but I just don't want to put her through that much when we don't really  have to.  At least that's the direction I'm thinking right now.  The doctor and I will figure out the next step tomorrow.