scaredHe got worse.
New Year's Day, we went to a vet closer to home, where he received an enema, more anti-nausea medication, and a second examination. By this point, he had lost quite a bit of weight, and was visibly unwell. Still, he rallied after treatment, and was sent home.
He got worse.
Yesterday, we were finally referred to the emergency vet, where an ultrasound revealed a mass obstructing his small intestine. Surgery happened that night. There was no necrosis, and the mass (a congealed, compressed hairball) was successfully removed. He ran a fever for some time afterward, but this responded well to antibiotics, and went down. He was not sent home.
Thomas is currently hospitalized for recovery. His digestive system is not working properly; he has not had any food in four days, although he is able to receive subcutaneous fluids. He is not out of the woods. The woods are dark and deep and full of wolves, and I am so scared, and he is so sick. My baby boy is so sick. I don't have children: I have my cats. They are the world to me, and I am so afraid right now. So please. If I am quiet, if I am slow, if I am a little off from what you expect, be kind to me.
I am waiting for the sky to fall.
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