In which I have a pity party, Sir Tristan the Wonder Cat goes to the vet for an emergency, and all’s well that ends well
Today, I must say, I am (at this moment) feeling better than on Tuesday, all things considered. There has been a lot of shock and tears over the magazine closures, which reminds you that you made these mags for everyday people and that they really enjoyed them and looked forward to them. So, yes, I’m still very sad — and also still a bit shocked myself.
I had told myself that I would get one day for a pity party and then start working again. Well, Wednesday went fine and I even saw the Great Outside while going shopping for some headache tablets and groceries.
Today was a hellish day, but at least ended well. Sir Tristan the Wonder Cat looked a bit off yesterday and I thought it was a hairball. Well, this morning he couldn’t eat because his mouth hurt so bad! Oh why oh why must cats always hide their pain? Hmf!
Well, while trying to see into his mouth and getting a few scratches, I saw it. A lump in his mouth. That should definitely not be there.
Of course my mind immediately goes “feline mouth cancer” and I burst into tears.
I got an appointment at the vet for three o’clock this afternoon and spent the day crying and trying to work (and completely failing). I didn’t know if I was glad when it at last was 3pm, because I was 99% sure that I was going to have to euthanise him today.
See, I lost my previous cat, Kleintjie, which means “Little One” in Afrikaans (also a stray that was just left behind when her people moved), to cancer about a month before Sir Tristan showed up as a kitten lost and alone in my garden. That was fourteen years ago.
Let’s just say Kleintjie’s last days were hell on earth as she was stuck at the vet and I couldn’t go visit for three days. Long story short, when I saw her again, I had to euthanise her to stop her awful suffering. And with mouth cancer, I just wasn’t prepared to put Tristan through anything like that.
Anyhow, got to the vet, I blubbered what I’d seen and he checked Tristan’s mouth to discover it’s an abscess and he needs to have three teeth extracted. Okay, so that’s not great, but much better news that cancer!
He’s now going in for surgery on Tuesday and has received some antibiotics and pain meds to pull him through until then.
By the time we got home he was already feeling better, and ate some tuna (hey, he deserves it!). Then he pawed and pawed at his mouth … and one of the teeth — the worst one! — just came out on its own. I am shocked and relieved!