My once strong and regal Siamese is now scraggly and limp.
In the Fall of 2006, the cat began having difficulty breathing. I took him to our regular vet and we started him on a regimen of antibiotics. After about 6 months, his condition worsened so I took him back to my Regular Vet for a check-up. She stated that there was nothing else that she could do...so I went home and did some research and ultimately took the cat to a respiratory specialist at a State-Renowned Animal Hospital. After running half a dozen (very expensive) tests, I was told that he had asthma and bronchitis. So we were sent home with steroids and a feline inhaler.
After another 4-5 months, the condition continued to worsen, so back we went to the Regular Vet who recommended that I "seriously think about ending his suffering." Beyond his difficulty breathing, the Essence of my sweet cat was still there and I wasn't ready to put him to down. So off we went again to the State-Renowned Animal Hospital. Another boatload of tests were conducted and we were sent away with even more meds plus weekly allergy shots.
Fast forward to last week when I had to board the Siamese at our local vet's office for two nights while we were out of town.
My poor guy had lost more than two pounds, had horrible congestion and labored breathing, and his little ear tips were folded over and drooped horribly. The Vet Assistant told me that she had never seen a cat's ears do that in her 22 years of practice.
During the check-in process, I learned that our Regular Vet had left the practice. So I went ahead and asked that the Owner DVM take a look at the cat to see if there was anything else we could do to save his life.
Turns out, my Siamese has Herpes and not chronic bronchitis. And all of those steroids and antibiotics that I was given to administer to him twice daily for a year and a half gave him diabetes and Cushings Disease.
All for nothing.
Two wrong diagnoses.
You know that adage about getting a Second Opinion? It didn't work.
So now I sit and pet my sweet little Siamese and just cry cry cry because even though I did my very best to get good help for him, I ended up overloading his system with the meds that have essentially destroyed his system. I am beside myself with guilt and grief.
I keep trying to think back and pinpoint exactly where I went wrong. I followed their instructions. I sought out the best possible care available. And I have hurt him...incurably.
When I'm feeling really dark and moody, I start to realize that this is a repeat lesson in my life that I just can't seem to overcome. No matter how hard I work at doing/fixing certain things in my life...even when I give 100% effort and energy....I still end up Failing. No matter how many different approaches I take, no matter how hard I try, no matter who I call in to help....I fail.
Which is certainly the case with my sweet Siamese. Despite my best intentions.
I'm grateful for the departure of my old vet and the help from my new vet. And I am deeply angry at myself for not realizing what was happening sooner.
In the Fall of 2006, the cat began having difficulty breathing. I took him to our regular vet and we started him on a regimen of antibiotics. After about 6 months, his condition worsened so I took him back to my Regular Vet for a check-up. She stated that there was nothing else that she could do...so I went home and did some research and ultimately took the cat to a respiratory specialist at a State-Renowned Animal Hospital. After running half a dozen (very expensive) tests, I was told that he had asthma and bronchitis. So we were sent home with steroids and a feline inhaler.
After another 4-5 months, the condition continued to worsen, so back we went to the Regular Vet who recommended that I "seriously think about ending his suffering." Beyond his difficulty breathing, the Essence of my sweet cat was still there and I wasn't ready to put him to down. So off we went again to the State-Renowned Animal Hospital. Another boatload of tests were conducted and we were sent away with even more meds plus weekly allergy shots.
Fast forward to last week when I had to board the Siamese at our local vet's office for two nights while we were out of town.
My poor guy had lost more than two pounds, had horrible congestion and labored breathing, and his little ear tips were folded over and drooped horribly. The Vet Assistant told me that she had never seen a cat's ears do that in her 22 years of practice.
During the check-in process, I learned that our Regular Vet had left the practice. So I went ahead and asked that the Owner DVM take a look at the cat to see if there was anything else we could do to save his life.
Turns out, my Siamese has Herpes and not chronic bronchitis. And all of those steroids and antibiotics that I was given to administer to him twice daily for a year and a half gave him diabetes and Cushings Disease.
All for nothing.
Two wrong diagnoses.
You know that adage about getting a Second Opinion? It didn't work.
So now I sit and pet my sweet little Siamese and just cry cry cry because even though I did my very best to get good help for him, I ended up overloading his system with the meds that have essentially destroyed his system. I am beside myself with guilt and grief.
I keep trying to think back and pinpoint exactly where I went wrong. I followed their instructions. I sought out the best possible care available. And I have hurt him...incurably.
When I'm feeling really dark and moody, I start to realize that this is a repeat lesson in my life that I just can't seem to overcome. No matter how hard I work at doing/fixing certain things in my life...even when I give 100% effort and energy....I still end up Failing. No matter how many different approaches I take, no matter how hard I try, no matter who I call in to help....I fail.
Which is certainly the case with my sweet Siamese. Despite my best intentions.
I'm grateful for the departure of my old vet and the help from my new vet. And I am deeply angry at myself for not realizing what was happening sooner.
