It’s pouring down rain at the moment I am writing this. And by pouring, I mean a torrential downpour with some very gusty wind. The only thing missing are the flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder. It’s rained through most of the night, washing away the wintery blanket of snow that blew in only a few days ago. Such is the weather here in the Northeast US. Below freezing one day, Spring temperatures the next. It also seems quite fitting for today – the rain washing away the pleasure and joy a nice snow can bring. Today is the closing on my lifelong childhood home, and this week is the week we find that Oreo only has short while left with our family. My mother passed away on Mother’s Day this year (holidays seem to be a curse to us, both human and animal). It was both a blessing and soul wrenching. It closed a 5 year chapter on our lives. Dad passed from COVID in 2020 (he went in the hospital right before Easter), and Mom had to go in a week later. She recovered, but he did not. But I don’t think she really recovered emotionally. These last five years brought along a lot of health issues for her, which were only exacerbated by her dementia, which only got progressively worse. So it was a small relief when she passed, knowing that her suffering was over. But today we close the book on that part of our lives forever as the home I and my siblings grew up in over the course of 50 odd years will pass on to another family in which for them to make new memories. It’s been an emotional roller coaster for many months.
This week, the train of that coaster has derailed. Monday morning started like any other. As daylight began to break, our feral crew began their usual ministrations to let us know that breakfast was overdue. So the routine began. I got out of bed, and began the ritual feeding. But this time, I noticed that Oreo wasn’t quite his normal self. He seemed a little unsteady on his hind legs, and wobbled every so often while walking, like he was losing his balance. I thought maybe he was a little stiff from sleeping, or perhaps he had been hurt from a scrap he had with Tux a day or two beforehand. As the morning progressed, it was clear that something wasn’t quite right, as he continued to show issues with his hind quarters, even though he seemed fine in every other regard. But life called and I had to head out to work. I put Oreo in our bedroom so we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone going after him, or he hurting himself trying to get up and down the stairs in the house. I let our eldest know to watch out for him and let me know how he acts when it came time for dinner. When dinner rolled around, it was clear that he was not getting any better, and looked to be worse, as he was dragging one of his legs as he wobbled to the food bowl. So I called our Vet to try to get an appointment for him in the next couple of days. The nurse indicated that he should most likely go to urgent care as soon as possible. It took me a moment to process that because, in the back of my mind, that’s what I had already feared. At that point, my thoughts were going towards a neurological problem that might be the result of an infection, because of his FIV.
At that point, I called my wife to let her know, and asked if she could get him to the hospital and get the process going until I could get there after work. Unfortunately, Oreo had hidden himself out of reach under our bed and neither my wife nor eldest could coax him out and get him into the carrier. I told them to give him a lickable treat with a capsule of Gabapentin, which we use for Hershey’s FHS and aggression towards Midnight, and that I would just get him after work. So the remaining hours crawled by until I could close up shop and get home. Fortunately, by that time the medicine had kicked in, and Oreo had positioned himself within easy reach under the bed. I scooped him up and headed off to the emergency room.
Luckily enough, one of the people I work with also works at the hospital, so she got Oreo in and prepped for the doctor as soon as I was able to get there. Not that it mattered as I was the only one there for admittance at that hour of the night. So the waiting game began. I don’t even know how long I was waiting at that point. Time just seemed to blend altogether until the ward doctor brought me in the room to discuss the results of her examination and blood work.
Due to his symptoms, and his current heart condition with FIV on top, she suspected a blood clot had blocked off a portion of the main artery that went to his hind legs. He was also slightly anemic and one kidney level was elevated. She suggested a transfer to another hospital who had a Cardiologist who was available to see him immediately. Unfortunately, theirs was not available for a couple of days. So she started making some phone calls. About an hour went by before she returned and let me know that the only place that she could get a hold of that had a Cardiologist ready was over 40 minutes away in the big ole city. Considering that I had to be back to work in a few hours by that time, and I had no desire to head into the city that night, and Oreo had stabilized at that point and wasn’t critical. We decided that the best course of action was just to keep him overnight and see if somewhere closer had a Cardiologist available for the next day. So home I went, and after a restless few hours, went back to work, awaiting an update from the doctor.
I got the call later in the morning, letting me know that Oreo was still doing OK, but the result of additional tests came back more worrying. So the decision was made to take Oreo to another critical care facility, still forty-odd minutes away, but one much easier to get to that was not in the city. They would make the arrangements for the transfer and get him ready for me to pick him up and head to the next hospital. It was heart wrenching to see the Mini Bear – bandage on his front leg where they left the catheter in for the next Hospital, and a cone around his head to prevent him from attempting to take it off. For the next 40 odd minutes, I drove in silence, not even feeling the mood for my usual accompanying Christmas music in the car. It was just Oreo’s plaintive meows as he obviously was frightened and could not understand why this was happening to him.
We arrived to the next hospital and began the check-in process. The receptionist couldn’t find the transfer order, so started a new intake process. To their credit, a nurse came out to check on Oreo as soon as they were aware that he had arrived and noticed that he was in distress and took him back immediately to begin treatment. The receptionist found the transfer order with the notes from the previous hospital, so at that point it was just a waiting game to see what the next set of results would be.
Of course, things can’t ever be simple for us. That day was going to be a busy day for me, even without the emergency. I had a virtual appointment with a Nutritionist in a hour, and then we had our youngest’s dressage riding lesson, which had already been rescheduled to that day because of another appointment my wife and I had the following day which wouldn’t allow us time to get back for her regularly scheduled lesson. So while waiting in the busy lobby of the hospital, I was trying to calculate the exact times I would need to leave in order to make it back home in time, and decide whether I could take the virtual appointment on my phone while on the road. As the minutes ticked by, I realized that taking the appointment in the car would not be practical, so I called to reschedule, but of course was going to get hit with a late cancellation fee, regardless. That problem solved, it was only a matter of timing – and rush hour traffic – to determine whether we would make horse lessons on time or not.
I think I had been there for about an hour when I was called back into a room to discuss Oreo’s situation. They had him stabilized and he was doing well, but they had a lot of emergency calls that they were still dealing with, so couldn’t do much more testing at that point. So we discussed his condition and the report from the previous hospital and came up with a game plan for further testing. At that point, we were still leaning towards a blood clot, and considered having an echocardiogram performed in the morning, but they wanted to try an ultrasound of his stomach first, since that wouldn’t require anesthesia. Since his condition also hinted at something going on with his spine, we considered perhaps doing an MRI as well, but that would come after the echo and additional bloodwork. They would give me a call around 10 the next morning to discuss the results.
At that point, it was time to head home. Naturally, once the GPS was fired up, rush hour traffic was well underway, and the main route home was hampered by some idiot who decided to have a bit of an accident some 10 miles down the road, causing a nearly 20 minute jam. I clearly was not going to be home in time for the riding lessons at the appointed time. So after a couple of text’s I arranged to have the lessons pushed back an hour and hit the highway. I attempted to soothe myself with my holiday tracks, but it couldn’t assuage my thoughts, or the tears that came on the drive home. I fervently hoped that a blood clot was all it would be, but my gut told me otherwise. In any event I arrived home literally at the very minute we had to leave in order to get to riding lessons at the newly appointed time. I noted that there is very little rest for the weary.
I managed to get a little more sleep that night, and awoke the next morning to begin our usual feeding routine, minus one. Fortunately, there was no work for me that day, but it was going to be a full day of running around, nonetheless. Our youngest has a music recital at school that morning, afterwards I had to take care of making phone calls and doing paperwork for the house closing. I called the hospital to let them know I would not be able to take any calls until Noon. We also had that appointment coming up in the afternoon, which was a 45 minute drive in the opposite direction I had to take to the hospital. The day really just turned into one big blur of time and movement. I remember the doctor calling while I was downstairs on the computer checking e-mail and that’s when we got the news.
The results of the ultrasound found a mass in his small intestine, with some fluid forming around his stomach as well. Both kidneys showed signs of being affected at that point. Without anything more invasive, and his having FIV, the doctor felt pretty certain that it was Lymphoma that had potentially spread to his spine as well, which is what caused the onset of the weakness in his hind quarters. At that point we had three options:
1. The most aggressive and invasive route of surgery and chemo. But the results would hardly be in his favor nor guaranteed because of his heart condition.
2. Keep him comfortable with medication and pain relief as a hospice patient at home
3. Euthanasia
I thanked the doctor for the information and told him we would discuss and get back to him as soon as possible. None of those were the three options I wanted or needed, but they were the only three we had based on his condition. I called back after an hour and the flow of tears had ended to let the nurse know that we would take him home with medication and work with our vet to see what we could do for him in the time he had left. At that point, my wife and I had to head out to our appointment.
The nurse called back to give me the details and let me know that they were going to prep him for discharge. I let him know that I would be there to pick him up later that evening, after we wrapped up our appointment. We got back to the house around dinner time. Thankfully our eldest has taken an interest in cooking, so she got dinner started, but it wouldn’t be ready until long after we would have to leave to get Oreo at the appointed time. I had a salad, and got in the car to get our mini bear from the hospital and bring him home to peace and comfort after his 48 hour ordeal. It felt like a week by that point. At least it was late enough by then that rush hour traffic was pretty much done with, and it was only a matter of them finishing the discharge procedures and we were on our way home.
While I was gone, the family got the spare bedroom ready for him, so Oreo could have a safe place to spend his final days, or weeks, without having to worry about being terrorized by Tux, or us having to worry about him going up and down the stairs in the house. He’s been a brave boy so far and he’s going to get love and spoilings for as long as he shows us he can.
This morning was the start of the second full day of him being home with us, and the skies opened up overnight and have just continued to pour down. I stared out of the bedroom window watching the wind and rain batter the screen and glass as Oreo lay up against my leg and arm, purring away as if nothing was wrong. I would have to get up in a few minutes to get ready to head to the lawyer’s office to sign the final paperwork for the house closing. My heart and tears matched the tempest that was occurring outside of the house. It felt as if Mother Nature was matching the storm I felt inside of myself. The sky was crying as much as my heart and soul were at that moment.
