What a Difference a Day Makes

Funny how things can change so quickly.  On Sunday night everything was great in my little world.  I had just picked up my Christmas tree, happily looking at lights on houses as I drove.  When I got home, I snuggled on the couch with my husband and kitty.  Life was normal, and good.

Just a few hours later, Josh and I woke up when Tala came in our room and gave a yowl like we had never heard before.  It's not unusual for her to loudly announce her presence at any time of the day or night, but this was different, more urgent.  Half asleep, I looked at her in the dim light and could tell something wasn't right, but couldn't quite grasp what.  Then I noticed instead of going straight up as usual, her tail was hanging down limply, and she wasn't jumping up to claim her usual spot on the bed. No more sleep for us. 

Josh gently felt around to see if he could find an injury of some sort.  Other than it was obviously painful around the base of her tail, no other physical signs could be found.  A little later Josh also noticed her breathing seemed labored.  The vet's office opens at 7, so we waited and waited for 7:00, and I called a few times before someone finally answered the phone.  I explained our situation, and they said to drop her off on my way to work and they'd have a vet look at her ASAP.  I got ready for work in record time, and dropped Tala off.  Feeling guilty as usual, cuz I know how much she hates being at the vet, but not especially worried.  By the time I got to work, I already had a voicemail requesting permission to do x-rays, which I granted.

It was a very slow morning at work, I didn't have a single appointment scheduled.  So I waited with my phone at hand to answer the vet's call.  They called back again about 30 minutes later and asked if I was at work, I said yes but I had time to talk.  The voice on the other end hesitated, then asked if perhaps my husband was available to come down and talk in person.

Oh, no.

I told them he was also at work, and that's when they told me what they found was not good, and that they were going to refer us to an advanced veterinary clinic.  I said I'd be down as soon as I could.  I got permission to leave work at that point, all I wanted was to get my kitty.

Before they brought her out, the vet took a few minutes to tell me what was going on.  I tried to understand, I really did, but I was pretty scared and emotional and not absorbing info very well.  Basically they found fluid in her chest cavity were fluid should not be.  There are a few conditions that can cause this, and all of them are pretty serious.   More tests were needed to pinpoint the cause, hence the referral to the critical/emergency vet clinic.  They gave me the address, a cd of Tala's x-rays, brought me my baby, and off I went. 

Things really become a blur at this point.  When I got to the reception desk at the new clinic, I pretty much just handed them the paperwork and cd my vet had given me to give to them, since I was barely capable of speech by then.  They are obviously used to dealing with people on the verge of hysteria.  A very nice receptionist handed me a box of tissues, took the paperwork, cd, and Tala, after assuring me they would take good care of her, and she wouldn't be left alone at any time while in their care.

We were at that clinic for a long time.  While I waited and worried and went through tissue after tissue until my nose was raw, poor Tala was undergoing more poking, prodding, and x-rays.  A vet tech named Mandy would stop by to give me updates.  I liked her, she had a cheerful, reassuring demeanor that made me feel a little better. 

Finally, the vet came in to give me his diagnosis: Chylothorax.  The sac around Tala's lungs was filled with fluid that had leaked from her lymph ducts, crowding her lungs so they couldn't expand like they should.  Sometimes it can be caused by a blocked lymph duct, trauma, or heart failure.  In Tala's case, no obvious reason was found, this is called "idiopathic chylothorax".  Since no underlying cause can be found, not much can be done to treat it.  The vet drained the fluid out with a syringe so she's currently feeling better.  But this is just a temporary fix, and the fluid will more than likely return in a week or two.

 We could try a surgery to fix the problem, but it's very invasive, dangerous, and only works 20-25% of the time. Our other options are to bring her in when her breathing seems labored to be drained with a syringe again, or have a drain tube implanted.  Both of these, however, only work temporarily. With the syringe, scar tissue builds up making further drainings difficult and painful, and drain tubes inevitably clog. They would only buy us weeks, maybe a couple months.  Although there is a chance it will resolve on it's own, the vet did not sound like he thought that outcome would be likely in our case.

 Things are not looking good for my sweet girl. 



  Tuckered out, sporting a new bald spot.

 







I kept Josh informed over text as all this was going on.  When he got home shortly after we did, his eyes were almost as red-rimmed as mine.  I can deal with being sad, but seeing my big, strong husband like that just about ripped what was left of my heart out. The rest of the evening was pretty teary-eyed and sniffly.  I don't think any of us slept much.  This morning it took me a minute to figure out why I woke up with a lump in my throat and a feeling of dread in my tummy. 

Now that we're back to a fairly normal routine, it's hard to believe that we may have to let her go soon.  She's not 100%, but seems mostly ok, acting very much like her usual self.  But one thing I have learned in the last 36 hours is that cats are very good at hiding pain. I still don't know why all this made her tail go limp. In all the confusion I forgot to ask. It still won't stick up, but it's not as limp and lifeless as it was Monday morning.

 We have a follow-up appointment this coming Monday.  Unless a miracle occurs and no fluid is found, Josh and I will have some tough decisions to make.

Until then, I probably won't get much accomplished.  My tree is still in it's box.  My Christmas cards unsigned and unsent.  Not feeling very festive, and I don't want to do anything but sit here and snuggle with my baby, since I don't know how many more snuggles I'll get.