Monday, September 9, 2013

The Bugsy watch

Friday, after class, I visited my folks and found young Bugsy to be looking pretty unkempt. His eyes weren’t quite right. I announced, “I’m taking him to the vet.” "It's just the heat," said pop. (Typical; an old story.)

"Don't think so," I said. I called the vet's office and found that he was due anyway for a comprehensive check-up, and so I dropped him off for this hours-long process early Saturday morning.

By mid-morning, I got a call from the vet: he looks pretty anemic, she said. I agreed to some special testing.

An hour or so later I was told that I must move Bugsy to another hospital immediately so that he can get a blood transfusion: it turned out that his red blood count was down to 7 (it’s supposed to be 35 or so).

Did that. I was focused, man. Took no shit from nobody. Got there fast, ready to go.

It eventually became clear that Bugsy needed “whole blood,” and so I volunteered my pal Teddy the Cat for that job. Ran home, got ‘em, brought him to the expensive emergency place deep in Irvine. He was very good about the whole thing. "Sorry bud," I said. "But it's gotta be." Turned out he had the right blood type and so we got the green light.

Eventually, by the evening, Bugsy’s red blood count was up to 14, and the little guy felt much better. Annie and I visited him. He was just two or three cages down from young Teddy, that big, strapping, healthy guy, who meowed loudly as we entered the emergency care area. “Hey, Teddy, we’ll be with you in a minute!”

Took Teddy home. He was our hero. Got him special junk food.

On Sunday, we waited for results for the bone-marrow biopsy (I think that’s what it was). Meanwhile, we kept tabs on ‘im. My folks found their way to the hospital (good Lord) to visit their little Buster as I waited by the phone for some word from the vet (one of the specialists). It sounds as though my folks’ visit went very well.

Later, Annie and I visited the boy. Took off that damned Elizabethan collar to get at ‘im. He got normal and kinda OK pretty fast. Stayed with him nearly an hour. What a drag though. He was down to 3 or 4 pounds.

It was by then clear that his bone marrow wasn’t producing red blood cells, and that’s seriously bad. Is it feline leukemia? The test said no, but that could be wrong. Is it some more exotic condition? Don’t know. Was he poisoned—ate the wrong plants or got into my folks numerous medicines? Not likely.

This morning, after my first class, I talked to “the vet” (one of ‘em), who said Bugsy’s red blood count was up to 20, which was great news. If it stays up there, we’ll be able to take him home (probably). If not, he’ll get another transfusion. Can’t use Teddy for that but we’ll make arrangements if need be.

So we’re still waiting for the test results. Don’t know. But I’m more hopeful now than I’ve been since mid-Saturday. I think my folks are visiting Bugsy this morning. Hope so. Hope they get there. (You have no idea.)

Sheesh. Such an innocent little guy.

Good fucking grief.


Anonymous said...

I'm hoping there will be ample good news about Bugsy to come.

Anonymous said...

Hang in there, little Bugsy. We're pulling for you.

Anonymous said...

Brave little guy(s). Thinking of you all with good thoughts!

Old—and insane (—and when <I>eugenics</I> was in the air)

Young Frieda Flueckinger, c. 1893      Here's another post on the historical blog I'm doing for a friend. You might find it i...