August has always been a difficult month for me so I was glad to see it go. Having just ordered some bedroom furniture and having the past month behind me, I woke up on September 1st quite vibed and ready to go. First thing, I had to take my rescue cat to the vet. He had been doing better but needed a regular check-up so I wasn't worried; that was, until the explosion hit.
Have you ever been near an explosion of such magnitude that you were thrown through the air only to be slammed into a brick wall? Me either, but I've seen it on television and am certain that is how it felt when I left the vet's office last Saturday.
I was told that the cat has a tumor in his intestines and that this is why he cannot digest food very well. They could not determine if surgery was not an option until they did an x-ray to determine if the growth had spread up into his lungs. Fortunately, it had not so the little guy was scheduled to have surgery this past Wednesday. It was crushing but I had hope that the tumor could be removed and, eventually, kitty would be better than before.
It was around noon that Wednesday that I got the call from the vet. There was no way to remove the tumor without taking the pancreas and doing so would only worsen the situation so his seven-inch incision was closed up with two layers of stitches and then stapled together.
I have felt really ashamed to have put him through such trauma for no use. Nothing can be done but wait until the tumor grows large enough so that he cannot digest any food and then, well, you know....
Anyway, I get quite distraught over these types of problems. I guess my August is now his September. What a crappy year he has had: he was abandoned by his family at a shelter, has been extremely ill, and now his guts have been taken out and put back in for no reason.
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