Last night, all my lack of sleep and worries about our sick little kitty came to a head, and I got a good, long cry taken care of. He was so ill last night, could barely breathe and obviously in extreme discomfort. I felt so useless and was at the end of my rope. I emailed his vet (who might I add, is the nicest, best vet on the planet) and she got back to me within a half an hour. After a couple hours, we had a plan in place to bring him in this morning and flush his nose again so that he can breathe at least for the next few weeks. I was a wreck trying to figure out how I could enjoy our vacation with him being so ill. THANK GOD for Dr. Cordner.
So, as we speak, Mr. Miles the cat is at the U Vet Hospital, hopefully recuperating after his little procedure. I hope he’s a new man when I get him back this afternoon.
The husband was nothing but sweet and supportive of me during my complete emotional breakdown. We had a rough conversation about “the end” and what that means, and as much as it hurts, we know what (and when) to do (it). I love him like he’s my child, but I cannot sit back and watch him suffer as much as he has in the past 72 hours. At any rate, when Miles would start to have serious problems breathing or have a sneezing fit, the hubs got up with him so that I could sleep. That gesture alone made me fall in love with him all over again.
In uterus news, lots of pinching/searing feelings in my tummy & abdomen. And still dizzy. I cannot wait until AF comes and I can be a crazy person with imaginary 2ww symptoms, just like everyone else.