don't call me nurse ratched

(thank you imdb; i originally thought it was "Nurse Cratchit," as do many others in cyber space).

Juliet's saga continues with a bit of an upturn in the story.

I arrived at the vet's last evening, and Juliet was brought to me. She looked awful, and I thought she might be in a coma. She just laid in her roaster pan with heating pad on, breathing. Sometimes we are grateful just for breathing. I tried petting her very gently, and there was no response. I was told that the vet wanted to speak to me (gulp). We waited a long time, during which I kissed and stroked and just watched her. I wondered if this was the end and whether Robert could make it down Route 495 before closing time.

Dr. Randy came in and we had a long talk. I'm of the mind that we have the power to alleviate suffering. I was seeing what looked like misery with little quality of life, unless you count the pleasures of lying very still in a heated roaster pan, covered with a tiny, cat-sized blanket.

Randy said that he recommended giving her 5-7 more days. He said that the past 24 hours had shown us that we didn't have to put her down right away. And it would be fairest to her if we gave her more time, especially since the biopsy results could give us some guidance about next steps. Then he really got my attention by saying, "If you're questioning whether it's time, then it's not time. If it is time, there will be no question about it." I'm not sure if I was even questioning, but I was willing to take his advice on faith, especially since my solution was not making me very happy.

So, with some skepticism, I agreed to take her home. I also decided to postpone our trip to Costa Rica, which was supposed to start today ; I just didn't feel I could ask anyone else to take on the tasks of caring for her. (My niece later wrote and said "couldn't you come and leave Uncle Robert at home?") Randy gave her some steroids to reduce swelling and a magic potion of various drugs and vitamins to promote healing. He didn't even want me to put her in her carrier, but I eventually did because she looked like she might try to climb out of her pan.

I got home, opened the carrier, and ... she crept out, and then ran down the hallway. She was so fast that I couldn't keep up with her. Then she attached herself to the baseboard heater, which is really hot, and didn't move for a long time.

There followed a delightful evening. I put food in front of her; she ate. I put her next to Robert, and she climbed onto his lap for some petting, then jumped down on her own. She asked to be picked up so she could sit next to me for a while. I brushed her; she purred. She meowed a little (a not complainin' just sayin' kind of a meow). She ate some more.

I was very very brave and started putting goo on her googly eye instead of asking Robert to do it. I'm totally squeamish about eyes, and had up til that point managed to get other people to place the goo. In part, I was feeling guilty about waking up just so I could wake up Robert to put it in. So I tried and succeeded, and it's icky but not that bad.

Randy had suggested that I set up a little nursery for her in my bathroom. She refused to have anything to do with her roaster pan, even with the heat on, she wolfed down more food, and then she climbed into bed with me and stayed there all night. (aww...)

We awoke this morning and she purred with delight and washed my face a little. She wasn't at full strength yet, but what a pleasure to renew our morning ritual. Her googly eye is much better and she's continued eating, though she's not quite as starving as she was last night.

I faxed a one-page "overnight nurse's report" to the vet's office.

Today, she's gotten more brushing. I've also tried to clean her face a little; there's still some crud left over from the surgery and the bleeding. I had some business to transact, so was in my study most of the day. She's been on the bed, with the mattress pad turned up and the gas fireplace going. For a while, she was in full sun, too. I would say that despite my insistence on putting goo in her eye, she's had a good day filled with sun, heat, and love.

And sweetly, the surgeon called to check in with me; she had heard from Dr. R that I had decided not to travel. I gave her an update and she said that everyone in the office was concerned about Juliet. I think she was relieved to hear that things were going well. She commented that Juliet has gone beyond her ninth life and is now working on her twelfth or thirteenth.

We'll go back to the vet tomorrow for another assessment and next steps. Large blessings come in small furry packages.