I have never been one to Throw in the Towel and resign myself to the fact that Nothing Else Can be Done. It's just not in my DNA. So more often than not, you'll find me going down in flames while attempting to fix something as opposed to me walking away and saying that "I Have Done All That Can Be Done."
Those were the words used by the physician who cared for my dad in the hospital. And those same words were uttered by the vet last night.
My favorite Siamese cat has developed bronchitis/asthma and we are struggling to keep him alive. He never had this problem in California, so I have been racking my brain to identify all of the new sources that could be causing this condition. In the meantime, Prednasone, kitty inhalers, multiple shots, 4 pills a day...nothing is beating this thing. I have also changed cat litter (non-dust version), cat food, floor cleaner, detergent, laundry softener and all spray-items. The house is thoroughly cleaned once a week, and I stopped running the furnace and air conditioner. I replaced his old cat bed with a new, heated version.
Today, I plan to start giving him bottled water versus tap.
So my vet has suggested that we consider Other Options. Meaning: It may be time to put the old fella to sleep.
Well, Hell. This cat is only 12 years old, and he has slept under my arm every night for the last 10 years.
(Quick Note to Self: Try switching deodorant.)
I am not ready to put him down. I know that we are going to find the answer to this puzzle and help him get better, dammit. I am not willing to accept the words, "There's nothing else we can do." Especially when it's a matter of life and death.
In other news, the baby is doing great. He loves his new PT and OT, and I am so relieved that we made this change. Other health care professionals kept telling me that our first one was The Best, so I hung in there for the baby's sake. But I always knew that something was "off". And seeing our two, new folks interact with Baby Boy completely reinforces that gut feeling.
The baby is slowly starting to accept food and open his mouth to take a bite. I believe that taking the Previcid created a very negative oral experience for him, and that is what we have had to overcome. It's been slow progress, but I finally am able to get the baby to eat two tablespoons of YoBaby yogurt. Woo-Hoo!
Today feels like the end of an era in this house: We are moving the baby's crib out of our room and into his own room across the hall. I am so happy that he's growing and thriving - but at the same time, I'm sad that he's transitioning out of infancy into toddler hood. I remember trying to stay awake all night to insure he was breathing when he first came home with us. When he was on oxygen, I was vigilant at checking his levels and insuring his tubes weren't kinked. After he went off the oxygen, I worried about SIDS. Then he started rolling over and sleeping on his stomach, and I would worry about his ability to get fresh air. Several months ago, he started to wake up 2 times a night - probably because he was teething. Now, finally, he's sleeping through the night again. And Husband and I both agree that it's time for him to move into his room.
But the truth is that I like having him next to us. Not in our bed, but just near us so that we can wake up, look at him, and then roll over and go back to sleep.
I dunno. Maybe it's too soon. For me.