I dropped Persef off early on Friday morning and by the afternoon we learned the amputation had gone well and I’d be able to pick her up Sunday – again! – but she’d need to stay confined in her crate for a few days, then into a private room so her brother wouldn’t lick her stitches out. All this with a cone collar so she couldn’t do this, herself.
Do I need to tell you that everything didn’t go as planned?
She was listless with her head down, not eating or drinking. When I put her in my lap she didn’t raise her head and seemed warm. After calling the vet, I took her in and they determined, quickly, that she was dehydrated and had a 103 degree temperature (101 is normal for cats.) They also discovered a ‘pocket’ of fluid below the incision that had collected, partly because she was inactive.
The vet used a syringe to drain the fluid. Syringe after syringe. The fluid was red but not all blood. Perseph was given – subcutaneously – fluids + 2 injections of antibiotics and we went home for the night.
Next morning, no change. More blood tests. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of a cat for a blood test? The biggest problem is finding a vein: you *can’t see them* because of the fur, so the tech must feel for a pulse under the neck and search for the vein. Needless to say, this was not fun for Perseph. In fact, if she had been well, it would have been impossible.
Results came back: she was anemic probably because of the surgery and the pocket.
The next morning we got a call that Perseph needed a blood transfusion. ‘Where do you get cat blood?’ I asked. Turns out that have a small herd of cats they can ‘tap’ once a month.
So here was the situation: she’s still on the subcutaneous fluids in the hospital, her fever is down and she is eating a little and has 2 drains from her incision.
We went to visit her every day and she looked much better: she was walking around, the drains looking like 2 cow teats, still hooked up to the IV. She was alert and when we opened the cage, it was obvious that she wanted to get out. Part-way through our visit, she excused herself and went to her litter box and urinated – abundantly. She then *jumped* out of the box. We were elated.
Here’s another fun part: we were leaving Friday for 2 weeks and she was in no shape to take care of herself and we can’t ask the people coming in to feed them and change the litter to take her back and forth to the vet so she had to stay. It was hoped that after a few more days she’d be able to be shifted from ‘Medical Boarding’ to just ‘Boarding.’
The saga continued.