*makes crashy noises*
8 June 2021 09:32![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nym_wibblyAfter a promisingly productive start to 2021, between my shiny new 2-part Doctor Who story in honour of the Master's anniversary, a brand new Master-ful recs site, and a good start on posting the revised A Bed of Thorns to AO3, I totally crashed and burned. It seems to have been one thing after another since March, and even though I've had fewer migraines recently than I've had in years, I've been unable to write or do anything fannishly productive. I'm very bummed and discouraged but trying not to get upset about the fannish haitus. I loved that burst of old-me fannish productivity during December, January, and February.
My cat's been expensively sick for the past month - she went in for a nasty but routine dental in otherwise good health, then joined me in my crash-and-burn over the next few weeks. £1000 later she's off the antibiotics treating her mystery urine infection, but she's still not right. My main stress is making the right decisions for her, and having the physical capacity to carry them out. We can and will find the money to the very limits of our ability, but I always have such a hard time balancing her fearful nature and lack of protectively sassy catitude against the trips and treatments strictly necessary for her wellbeing. She's the sweetest soul, the gentlest cat I've ever known, and mostly she wants to be friends with every human she meets (while avoiding other cats at all costs, thanks so much), but her confidence is so easily shaken. It took me years to encourage her to swagger about the place giving orders like a real cat. Her weight has crashed since the dental op, and it's more from fear/food aversion because the antibiotics make her queasy than the actual illness. My poor puss.
Post mega-antibiotics, she's still drinking too much water and peeing for all of England, so it's important that we go back to the vet early next week for a repeat of the blood and urine tests (for which my remarkable baby just sits there, gently held, terrified without raising a claw, and lets strange vets stick her with needles). Best case scenario, she has a chronic pee infection that we can manage at the cost of a twice a day pilling. (The strawberry liquid we used twice a day for the past fortnight was unacceptably cruel - it might be 'palatable' to budgies and dustbin-inclined dogs, but it was an extra, frothing, gagging misery for my poor obligate carnivore. I'm having words with that brand.)
Worst case, her kidneys are failing, suddenly and likely as a direct result of the dental surgery, in which case I just don't know how much to put her through before saying 'enough'. I'm not a life-at-all-costs kind of pet owner in any case, and there's a hard limit on how much I'll value longevity/keeping any beloved over their day-to-day happiness, but quality-of-life is an extra big issue for this wobbly, rescued treasure here. I've never known a cat like her, I don't quite understand her insecurities, and I'm not sure I know her limits. Sometimes she's tougher than I think. Sometimes she falls apart like the world is ending because someone made the wrong noise. Makes it hard to know what's best for her.
My cat's been expensively sick for the past month - she went in for a nasty but routine dental in otherwise good health, then joined me in my crash-and-burn over the next few weeks. £1000 later she's off the antibiotics treating her mystery urine infection, but she's still not right. My main stress is making the right decisions for her, and having the physical capacity to carry them out. We can and will find the money to the very limits of our ability, but I always have such a hard time balancing her fearful nature and lack of protectively sassy catitude against the trips and treatments strictly necessary for her wellbeing. She's the sweetest soul, the gentlest cat I've ever known, and mostly she wants to be friends with every human she meets (while avoiding other cats at all costs, thanks so much), but her confidence is so easily shaken. It took me years to encourage her to swagger about the place giving orders like a real cat. Her weight has crashed since the dental op, and it's more from fear/food aversion because the antibiotics make her queasy than the actual illness. My poor puss.
Post mega-antibiotics, she's still drinking too much water and peeing for all of England, so it's important that we go back to the vet early next week for a repeat of the blood and urine tests (for which my remarkable baby just sits there, gently held, terrified without raising a claw, and lets strange vets stick her with needles). Best case scenario, she has a chronic pee infection that we can manage at the cost of a twice a day pilling. (The strawberry liquid we used twice a day for the past fortnight was unacceptably cruel - it might be 'palatable' to budgies and dustbin-inclined dogs, but it was an extra, frothing, gagging misery for my poor obligate carnivore. I'm having words with that brand.)
Worst case, her kidneys are failing, suddenly and likely as a direct result of the dental surgery, in which case I just don't know how much to put her through before saying 'enough'. I'm not a life-at-all-costs kind of pet owner in any case, and there's a hard limit on how much I'll value longevity/keeping any beloved over their day-to-day happiness, but quality-of-life is an extra big issue for this wobbly, rescued treasure here. I've never known a cat like her, I don't quite understand her insecurities, and I'm not sure I know her limits. Sometimes she's tougher than I think. Sometimes she falls apart like the world is ending because someone made the wrong noise. Makes it hard to know what's best for her.