The cat was ill yesterday. Milton has been remarkably healthy for his near 10 years, so I tend to go on high alert when he shows any signs of odd behavior.
Of course, I always seem to be on high alert.
I was able to get him into the vet this morning before I had to go back to physical therapy. I explained his symptoms and the vet listened sympathetically, but could find nothing overtly wrong with him: temperature was normal, ears and eyes were clear. I mentioned the blood panel first; it's been awhile since he had one and since he's getting older, I figured it might be worthwhile. The vet looked surprised (a client suggesting she should spend money!), but agreed that was the next course of action he'd suggest.
When I got Milton home, I gave him a bit more food, and he had a long and satisfying bath, then got up into the kitchen window to howl reprovingly at Olivier, his nemesis, who was up to some cat antics across the street. All pretty normal behavior, so I felt a bit better about his situation. I headed off to PT, where I was again poked and prodded, and then when the therapist asked me to stand up, I stood for a moment and then collapsed.
Completely. Unexpectedly. With no warning.
Fortunately, I was standing between two tables, and the therapist was prodding my hips to see how well aligned they were, so when I suddenly pitched to the right, she caught me at the waist and I was able to grab a table as I fell.
"What was that?" she asked, shaken.
"I think my leg buckled," I replied, equally shaken, and not entirely certain what had happened. Since this started, the muscles in my leg have refused to support me on a few occasions when I was going up or down stairs or a slope, but I haven't just dropped while standing still.
I got home after that excitement, and made myself lunch, and proceeded with my afternoon. The cat seemed pretty normal.
But tonight, he began to act as if he were ill again. He refused his dinner and is hiding right now. I've racked my brains today over what could be bothering him. I can't think of any poisons with which he might have come into contact. There've been no changes in food.
The vet has promised to call me tomorrow with his blood results.
The therapist has promised to send a report to my doctor.
I just want my cat to be better. I've imagined every possible terrible disease that could be plaguing him but I can't imagine my world without him, especially not now.
My own fate seems pretty well sealed after what happened today.
Go listen to some good music: "Heartache for Everyone" from the album All That We Let In by Indigo Girls. As I finished this, Milton appeared, bouncing, to finish his dinner. I am confused. And tired. And a bit disheartened. But seeing him eat up the food in his bowl made me feel a little better. Sleep and then a new beginning.