Kate, who didn't realize that the day was still only softening her up for what was to come, made the mistake of thinking that it had just reached a climax of shock.Substitute week for day, and here I am.
I wasn't happy to have my eyes dilated on Tuesday.
I was quite unhappy with my fouled-up oil change yesterday.
Pan's had a little hitch to his breathing lately, which I probably wouldn't even notice except for his heart condition. I monitored it for a while to see if it would get better, or worse, and it did neither. I decided that I'd better get in touch with the vet just in case. Even though I'd rather pretend that everything was fine, you know. Because if ... something ... happened, I would never forgive myself if I hadn't done what I could. (Although I've already found that in cases like that, you'll blame yourself either way.)
So, yesterday I e-mailed the vet and explained the situation, because I don't want to bring him in unless I have to. He gets SO stressed at the vet, and stress is SO bad for his heart, blah blah blah. Of course I'll take him in if I have to, but do I have to?
I talked to the vet today, and after we discussed the options (which both suck, as the vet more or less said) (that's not the word he used, though), we're trying Pan on another medication first, to see if it helps. If not, I'll have to bring him in for an exam and possible x-ray.
The catch? I don't know if I want it to work, the new med. Because if it does, it means he has fluid in his lungs, which means congestive heart failure. That's hard to say, hard to type, and hard to face. Pan's my baby, I've had him for 9 years and 8 months, and I'm Not Ready for ... anything. You know.
Perhaps there is something to be said for being an ostrich. I have a week of giving this med before I talk to the vet again. If I just try not to think about ... things, would that be so bad?