Problem Child

(Legal warning: there are pictures in this post that might gross you out.)

I'm not sure how a creature that only weighs 7 1/2 pounds could cause so much trouble, but Sophie has struck yet again.  

About a month ago, it was time for her annual trek to the vet for shots.  Plus she's a "geriatric" kitty at this point - although "we" do not speak of her actual age, let's put it this way, her litter mate, Gizmo, will be 14 years old this coming April.  

To recap, she's lived quite a bit of her fluffy life on the precipice of danger.  She was the runt of the litter and almost didn't survive being bottle fed after their mother abandoned her, Gizmo, and their three brothers after two days.  In 2010, she almost died of liver failure, had to be fed through a feeding tube, and drove me to the edge.  I figured that those two instances alone cost her at least two of her nine lives!

A few years later, 2015, she developed a hot spot on her tummy which resulted in her having what I like to call her "tummy tuck" - longtime readers will remember the pics of her in a Onesie!  

As we drove to the vet's office that Saturday morning, Sophie loudly singing the song of her people, I reassured her that she was fine and so the worst thing that would probably happen would be a shot or two.  I promised her that she wouldn't have to have her temperature taken.  (I silently crossed my fingers on that last one, but as it turns out, I was okay on that one.)

As always, the vet pried open her mouth to take a look at her choppers - which are gorgeous (my word, not his, but I'm sure that was the gist of his opinion.)  Now let me point out here that she was marvelous.  If my dentist had stood there with my mouth pried wide open while he calmly discussed it with someone else, I'd have bit him.  But no, she was a good little girl.  He pointed out that she had a sore on the roof of her mouth that wasn't normal.  He also pointed out how fast she was breathing - as though something were "up in there" making normal breathing difficult.  He said that the sore needed to be cauterized and maybe a biopsy done.

Well, you know that to me the word "biopsy" means I start looking for another cat.  I'm generally a positive person, and maybe that initial fear is normal, and it's how I deal with it that shows I'm positive.  But of course, I tried to assume the best.  We scheduled her surgery for the Monday after Thanksgiving (at that time, 10 days away).  During the interval, I did my best ostrich imitation, and tried to ignore the whole situation and just love my baby girl. 

Neither of us got much sleep the night before, since she couldn't eat or drink for X and Y hours, respectively, before the surgery, she and I went upstairs to sleep in the guest room.

Dropping her off was fun because I had to sit there through all the legal mumbo jumbo (and yes, I believe that's the technical name for it - I should know, as I work in the wonderful legal world!) and authorize them to do this or that, if necessary.   And yes, speaking as a legal professional, I freely admit that I did not read it - just skimmed for the highlights and where I had to sign and/or initial.

Post-op, I was called and told she was out and fine and I could come pick her up at 4:30.  So I went and got to see the Doctor - and he had pictures!!

So this picture is of her little mouth and weird thing in the middle is the tumor - they were able to take it out (and it would be sent off for biopsy).  Then they zapped the skin around the hole with a laser and it looked like this.

Keeping in mind that her entire head is about the size of a grapefruit, he telling me that now there is basically this tunnel between her mouth and her brain-box.  He said the edges might eventually sort of close in, but it wasn't likely to just heal up.  And his main concern is food getting stuffed up there, and then they'd have to put her out to go in and clean it out.  Yuck!  But he said that since she only eats dry food, that makes the chances of this happening much less.... and he'd like to see her again in two days.

He also told me that her white blood cell count was really high - turns out lil'puddin's tonsils (who knew cats had tonsils!?) were inflamed and out of their "crypt" - this reminds me I wanted to Google all of this - but he gave her a shot of antibiotics, so that should go away.  I'm guessing having uber inflamed tonsils may have played a major part in her not eating as well.

I got my sweetie home, and she hopped out of the carrier and wandered around the condo like she was drunk off her gourd.  Her front half seemed to be capable of going where her brain wanted it to, but her back half, if it worked, was NOT on the same wavelength.  If I were one to worry (hahahahaha!) I'd have been scared they'd nicked her spinal cord or something, but I chose to assume it was the remnants of the anesthesia and it would get better (and it did.)  The entire evening, she refused to lay down and rest, she wandered constantly from food bowl, to litter box, to water fountain, and back.  Later, my fiend, Jennifer, said this was probably her fight or flight instinct, and that made sense.  I was just too pooped from lack of sleep and worry that I couldn't stay up to watch her.

In the morning, she was fine, pretty much back to her usual queenly self.  I had obtained the okay to work from home so I could stay by her side, but she didn't need me, so I went to the office.  At that point, my main concern was having to park in the boonies, but the Lord blessed me with a parking spot very close to the door, so I was able to trek up to my office (four flights of stairs, remember?), and relax and work.

The doctor had told me that there was no need to get my hopes up about getting the biopsy results back any time soon - it normally takes 7-10 days.  So imagine my joy when, at our follow-up appointment two days later, they'd come in!!  Praise God!  They were normal - no cancer.  It was just some oddball (imagine that) allergic reaction that usually presents itself on the hind flanks - it's odd that it would appear in the mouth.  And it's not something that they can test for.  So my baby, like her mother, is just allergic to where she lives.

The final follow-up appointment, two weeks later, was this past Saturday.  Doctor opened her little mouth - she wasn't as much of an angel this time - and he said, "well, I'll be!"  And I was all, "WHAA??"  He turned her mouth so I could see - the hole was gone - there is a wee bit of scarring but other than that, there is no evidence in her mouth that this happened.

So to recap, the miracles that God performed in the past month just for this little 7 1/2 pound (well, 8 now, she'd gained a half pound at the 2nd FU appointment) ball of fluff and bones:

• Tumor wasn't cancer
• Test results back quickly so I wouldn't get an ulcer whilst dwelling morosely on the worst possibility for two weeks
• The hole healed up so no worries about food in her brain-box
• Parking spot (you might think I jest, but if so, you've never tried to find a parking spot at Berry.)

Now my little curmudgeon is all well and back to her normal self.  We both appreciate everyone's kind prayers, thoughts, and inquiries about her status - you just can't tell from her expression in this picture.