Monday, December 17, 2007

Hang in there, Mojo

I hate writing this.

Mojo has taken a turn for the worse.

His red blood cell count continues to drop, and he's displaying more signs of liver failure, namely, neurological impairment.  He's confused, acting drunk, one foot is folding over, and he appears to be going blind (although that may be temporary.)  The vet is stumped.  He's the topic of not so much debate but flustered helplessness amid the entire clinic.  His emergency consult this morning was not encouraging.  Doc John's compassionate language all had the same tone--brace yourself, we may lose this one.  He became very, very technical about the processes, and I was able to follow it all.  He wanted input on treatment simply because there is no good treatment for liver failure.  You just have to hope that the liver regenerates and minimize the damage that a low-functioning liver imposes on the system in the meantime.  That means more antibiotics to help reduce gut fermentation because much of what comes out of the gut must be processed by the liver (including a lot of alcohols) in order to not become toxic to the brain.  The only real good news is that his weight is holding, may have even increased, and his kidney function is fine.

It's really heartbreaking around here.  When he's awake he's staggering around, crying inconsolably.  He bumps into things and isn't sure what he wants or needs or even where he is.  Cuddling works for short periods of time.  The only time we get relief (him and us) is when he sleeps.  We have the basket Carole gave us set up by the wood stove.  He's sleeping there now.  It's his favorite place in the world right now, that and being held although he can only tolerate that for short stretches.

So we're all very sad here.

Meanwhile, at the CWAH, there's a beautiful adult white female cat up for adoption.  It was a stab in the heart to see her, and at the same time a kind of promise from the universe.  I just don't know what that promise is trying to tell me, except to keep hope that he'll either make it, or that there are an endless number of ways to express our love even when tragedy is cutting us apart.


Carissa said...

Aw, I'm so sorry Mojo isn't improving. In the very least, he has a loving home to spend this time difficult time in, rather than some shelter where he might not get all the love and attention he needs when the going gets rough.

Sending him all the best.

Carole said...

Exactly my thoughts too. I am so very sorry. It's so hard to lose a friend, no matter how long or short a stay they have had in your lives and hearts. Keep in mind his stay with you is most likely the very best place he has ever lived and I have no doubt he is feeling loved, maybe for the first time ever.

We continue to keep him in our thoughts here. Maxx and Seth say, "Hang in there, buddy."