My Hospice Kitty
My little Bailey Baby isn't doing too well. Last week we had to rush her to the vet as an emergency as she was struggling to breathe. After a series of x-rays, the vet noticed a mass in her lung cavity as well as a collapsed left lung. This meant one of two things: 1) Bailey had a form of pneumonia which was due to the collapsed lung, or 2) Bailey had cancer which caused her lung to collapse. Because of her advanced age--she is 15+ years old--the vet was leaning more towards the latter. However, she decided to treat her with a long-acting antibiotic and see how she would do.
Thankfully, she responded well to the treatment but she's still no where near 100%. Each day she is making small progress, a little bit more food here, using the litter pan there, walking down the stairs to get to food, etc. However, we are being guardedly optimistic. If, and that's a big if, it's just a collapsed lung with an infection there really is no fix. According to my vet buddy, they cannot reinflate kitty lungs the same way they can human ones. While Bailey can live a normal life with only one functioning lung, she is highly susceptible to infections in the future, of which one has already taken a massive toll on her health. She's lost four pounds and can barely stand because she is so weak, though she is getting a bit stronger each and every day.
If it is cancer, there is nothing we can do but wait.
Either way, Bailey has become what I am now calling my Hospice Kitty. I know that's a weird term but I just spent my summer as a social work intern at a local hospice. The term just seemed fitting as we do not know how long she has left but it is probably less than six months. Right now we are concerned with keeping her comfortable and making sure she has a good quality of life, similar to a hospice patient.
This whole thing weighs heavy on my heart. She is the last of the kitties that is pre-Bear. She earned the nickname "Bailey Budinski" because she would always wedge herself in between the two of us any time we tried to cuddle. She is a sweet and special little girl. I will miss her but at the same time I'm going to enjoy what little time I have left with her.
Thankfully, she responded well to the treatment but she's still no where near 100%. Each day she is making small progress, a little bit more food here, using the litter pan there, walking down the stairs to get to food, etc. However, we are being guardedly optimistic. If, and that's a big if, it's just a collapsed lung with an infection there really is no fix. According to my vet buddy, they cannot reinflate kitty lungs the same way they can human ones. While Bailey can live a normal life with only one functioning lung, she is highly susceptible to infections in the future, of which one has already taken a massive toll on her health. She's lost four pounds and can barely stand because she is so weak, though she is getting a bit stronger each and every day.
If it is cancer, there is nothing we can do but wait.
Either way, Bailey has become what I am now calling my Hospice Kitty. I know that's a weird term but I just spent my summer as a social work intern at a local hospice. The term just seemed fitting as we do not know how long she has left but it is probably less than six months. Right now we are concerned with keeping her comfortable and making sure she has a good quality of life, similar to a hospice patient.
This whole thing weighs heavy on my heart. She is the last of the kitties that is pre-Bear. She earned the nickname "Bailey Budinski" because she would always wedge herself in between the two of us any time we tried to cuddle. She is a sweet and special little girl. I will miss her but at the same time I'm going to enjoy what little time I have left with her.
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