Another bloodletting!

Another trip to the vet! This is getting old! I'm still coughing and having breathing problems. I know I'm old, but it's not like I have a 3 pack a day problem.
I look pretty insignificant in the big scheme of things in this photo. It's a bad perspective or something because if I wasn't a big deal they wouldn't be shoveling all this money into my medical care.

Here is my owner giving me the full body petting treatment. I know better than to let my guard down though. There's usually not much pleasant that happens to an animal at these vet clinics. I'm just stating the obvious here.

Jennifer is the first medical staff to check on me. She's the one who comes over to take care of me when my owners are gone. They don't have some kid next door check on me; I get a fully trained vet technician to give me my steroids and cancer meds and give me a thorough looking over. She also feeds me naturally.

Unfortunately (for me) the first thing they have to do before they get down to business is weigh you and take your temperature. Weighing in is no big deal but getting your temp taken is down right unpleasant. I think the surveillance photos tell the story better than any string of words I could come up with!

My medical case is pretty complicated. That's why I have all kinds of medical staff looking after me. It's the celebrity treatment that I deserve. The verdict is that I need to have blood tests done and sent down to the specialists at California Veterinary Specialists in Murrietta where they can scope it out.

I HATE having my blood drawn! It's not simple like for humans. They stick a needle right into your jugular vein (yikes!) to suck the blood out of me.
As can be seen here, this required them bringing in some big burly guy to physically subdue me so the lab tech could nail me with the syringe. I made sure it wasn't pleasant for anyone! I was in a bad mood about this!
The blood is for a CBC blood test. It sounds pretty simple but it analyses a lot of things about my blood. I got to have the right amount of red blood cells and it tests that. Seems like it would go without saying that blood cells are red. I mean blood is red itself! Therefore, if there were cells in blood and they weren't red they sure would be once they got all bloody!! Everything is red after it gets bloody! It also tests my hemocrit which has something to do with how packed my blood cells are. When the vet first mentioned my hemocrit I thought she was calling me a hypocrite! That's not me! Hemoglobin, reticulocytes and all kinds of other stuff too. Sure alot of stuff in blood!!

I was feeling a little surly after all this. The penalty for this is apparently locking you up! Oh well - time out is never a punishment for a cat. We excel at laying around doing nothing! I was in and out of there in a half an hour. No biggie!

Looks like they'll send my blood tests down to the specialty clinic to my oncologist, Dr Prioux. We'll see what he has to say!

SICKO! (that would be me)

I've not been feeling very perky lately. I've been shedding more pounds. I weighed in at 11 pounds last summer. Down to 9 around Christmas and now down to 8 1/2 pounds! I was wasting away and getting kind of surly about it (see surveillance photo of me looking surly). My motivation to patrol the backyard is pretty much gone. This is unfortunate since that is one of my major responsibilities around here. There are days I don't even bother to go outside.

It's been getting serious. I know that because my owner (the big one) weighs my cat food every time they pop open a can of Fancy Feast (I may be sick, but FF is still my favorite! Especially the Grilled Tuna in Gravy). They keep track of how much I eat. They don't weigh the hard food though which makes me feel sneaky every time I eat it. I get put on a scale every day too. I feel like I'm in some kind of research study with all the data they're collecting on me. Maybe I'm a case study and going to be talked about in a veterinary medicine journal! That would be cool. If that happens I expect to be a co-author. None of it would happen without ME! I make science happen!

Anyway, to get to the point, I got myself dragged off to California Veterinary Specialists in Murietta. It was road trip time! Not that I was in the mood for a road trip. I had an appointment with Dr Proulx - he's my main doctor. But the first thing that has to happen is a scan of my insides. That makes sense - it's not like I have a fur problem. Technically it's called abdominal ultrasonography. When you call it that, it sounds like it's going to cost alot!

So the guy who scans my insides is Dr Michael Sueda, DVM. He's a Diplomat of some kind from the American College of Veterinary Internal Medicine. I guess - it's something like that. He's got one of those fancy titles like Dr Proulx. My owner is really impressed with fancy titles like that! Me too - the fancier the title, the better the care! I think that's pretty obvious. Dr. Sueda is an internist who grew up in Hawaii which is a country I'd like to visit since there are so many fish there. That's probably where Fancy Feast gets their Tunas.

Maggie, the friendliest Vet Tech in these parts, took all these pictures. They knocked me out with something to get all this scanning stuff done so I think I can count on her as a witness. I didn't see that coming. But you can see my insides on the TV. It's not the first time I've been on TV, btw.
The person holding me down is Katie. Before she worked here she was in law enforcement and crowd control and has a military background. Actually I'm just guessing about that because of how good she was at holding me down. One doesn't get those skills by accident.

Turns out that I got all kinds of things wrong with me! The side of my neck was getting puffed out. So I'm getting bigger and weighing less. It's one of those cat conundrums that Dr Prouix is always talking about. That's a fancy way of acknowledging that I'm a complicated puss. The diagnosis? I got an abscess. That's a nice way of saying that I got a lump on me that is oozing some disgusting pus. Yuk. (puss and pus are etymologically unrelated, btw. Just sayin')

I can thank that low-life, trailer trash, white cat with tabby patches for the abscess. We got into it and he sunk his claws into the side of my neck. Since I run a family-friendly blog, I won't be specific about where I sunk my claws! HA! At any rate, if he doesn't have the kind of quality medical care that I get I suspect his low-life, trailer trash ass is dead! Not that I'm bitter about this or anything.

Anyways, they poked a hole in it and let it drain. There I go losing some more weight! Notice that some of these people have blue hands. I suspect they may be from that Avatar documentary about blue people on another planet. That may be a little far-fetched...

They even got a picture of the duo that did the number on my neck. They seem pretty pleased with themselves! They look pretty excited about having their paws around my neck!



So after all the blood tests, getting my abscess drained, getting my insides scanned, a thyroid test, some special blood test that they only do at Texas A&M and getting drugged up (not that I'm complaining about the drugged up part!), they toss me back into my cell. As anyone can see, there are pages and pages of documentation on my case. I think they're getting ready to publish a medical textbook about me. That would be a fascinating read.

I think these photos (taken in the backroom of the gulag) are pretty hardcore evidence that they were injecting me with something! When I'm actually sleeping I don't look that dopey so it had to be some kind of hardcore drug of some kind! Whatever it was, it turned me into a snooze muffin. Admittedly, a pus oozing, pancreatitic, asthma-laden, bite infected snooze muffin that violates one's stereotype of a snooze muffin. Oh well. Even a usually upbeat feline such as myself can recognize that some days are just going to suck bawls.

Dr Prouix had to summarize things to the owner. Dr Sueda had to give a report to him too. All that probably gave my owner brain overload. My owner asked right away if the news was horrible. The Doc said it's not horrible. I'm not an expert in human to human communication but it's not horrible seems very different than no, he's just dandy.

Yeah, today kinda sucked.

Asthma, sneezing, and a wart or something

So here I am. Hauled off to the vet again! I had to see my board certified oncologist for some reason and that reason was that I've been coughing and sneezing a bit. Can you imagine what this world would be like if they hauled every human to the vet when they coughed or sneezed!! Yeah? Well neither can I! So, yes, this is me waiting for the medical staff sitting in my the PPU (portable prison unit supplied by the secret police! You'ld think I was on trial for selling the secret recipe for Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna in Gravy!)

I'm always annoyed when they drag me to these places. But out comes the cheerful medical staff to try and get me in a good mood. I know better though. They just sneaky. No matter how cheerful they are, I'm always hauled into the back room for some pretty rough treatment!
Although I have to say this staff person is pretty easy on the eyes! And I don't need hate mail from the radical feminists either! I call'em as I see them! Anyways, her name is Liz. She's a little new here and lives in Oceanside which from the sound of it is probably by the ocean. She interrogates my owner (in a very pleasant way) about my "problems." He says I'm coughing and sneezing and he thinks I've lost weight and there a little thing on my neck. Jesus! I didn't know I was so messed up until Mr Doom started laying it all out!

If you're a reader of my blog (and apparently you are!) you probably know that the first thing they do when they drag you into the backroom is see how much you weigh. You'ld think they were going to sell cat by the pound out the back door or something! HA!! Ok, anyways, it appears that I've lost 8/10's of a pound since May which if you do the math (which I don't personally do) it means I've lost almost a pound. That's a bit if you now weight 10.22 pounds like me now. I'm not sure what that last "2" in 10.22 means. I bet it's less than what an upchucked furball weighs! This weight loss is probably bad news ...
Next, Brooke, another one of the medical types since she has a listening thing around her neck, seems obsessed with time. She's timing my heart I guess. She kept holding me tight - I guess she couldn't get enough of me!

I was hauled in here as a patient, but Brooke promoted me to Doctor! I assumed that's what the ritual of draping the heart listening device around my neck meant. And I assumed wrong. Apparently they were having a little fun at my expense but we were all having fun. And with these guys that just makes you suspicious!

So far nobody has shoved a needle into me so I'm not going to complain just yet!Finally the head guy gets to see me. He's my board certified oncologist. Most cats don't have board certified medical staff. But not all cats are VIP cats either - I'm not to blame for that. I'm not even sure what that certified stuff means but my owner thinks it's a big deal.
Dr Prouix was doing a major check up on me when this wise-cracker started goofing off! Probably the janitor or something! Turns out he's another one of those board certified vets (Dr Trostel), although let's be honest he wasn't acting like it! From the looks of it, Dr Prouix thought he was acting pretty silly. Dr Prouix is a real professional.

So what's up with my medical self - well, it would appear that it was kind of complicated. I know it's complicated because Dr Prouix always draws pictures since my owner doesn't seem to catch on very fast.
I had my web guy highlight the important things. I'm pretty sure I got it all right. It's not like I have a DR in Vet Science. It's a custom hand drawn picture of me. It doesn't look like me because Dr Prouix isn't exactly an artist and he was drawing my insides. It feels like I have more in me than what he drew, but he's the doctor. He gets paid for knowing this stuff.

So what's the bottom line? What's this cryptic diagram really mean? Well, if I had paid better attention I might have more to say but here's what I remember. The coughing is probably a little asthma. You can see in the diagram that my bronchial tubes get enlarged and that will cause problems with enough air getting into my lungs. That must not be too bad because Dr Prouix didn't give me any drugs for it. He said my steroids would help with it. I like the steroids - nothing like having a little JUICE in my system for chasing and murdering all the new mice that the bird feeder is attracting. The sneezing is no big deal. I'm not sure what the other internal parts of me do. Neither of these are symptoms of any cancer problem which is in remission so it's not a problem anyway. I guess. Dr Prouix said he wasn't worried about my weight loss yet, but that my owners should mix my food up a bit and serve me some even more elegant and expensive treats. Ok, I'm paraphrasing what he said a little, but it wouldn't be the first time a trip here resulted in me getting more of the good food - Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna in Gravy. I think they'll need to get me more of a variety. As long as it's the grilled stuff in gravy, that's good. Maybe they should start getting me those Pounces again! Oh - and that little bump on my neck. Dr Prouix said he thought it was a wart. THAT was a little embarrassing! Warts are disgusting. At least mine is covered by fur so it's not a cosmetic problem like with humans so as long as I'm looking good, it's not big deal!

After all this my head was kind of spinning. How the photographer guy actually got a picture of my head spinning is beyond me, but that's how it feels after all this diagnosing stuff. It's not exactly unpleasant. Maybe it's the drugs they got me on. Better living through chemistry, I always say. Actually, my owner is the one who always says that. I think he has problems.

Hey - look! The camera got a picture of the medical bill on top of the PPU. One thing these big medical bills prove is just how important I am! As far as I'm concerned the bigger, the better!! (I bet my vets are with me on that!!)

On the way home I was pretty pooed out. It wasn't a bad visit. They didn't "put me under" and they didn't reinforce their vampiric tendencies by removing some of my blood like they usually do. They got somebody new who seems to really like me. And to top if off, Maggie stopped in to say hi and show some love! She's usually my medical technician but for some reason she didn't get assigned to my case today. I hope for her sake they didn't have her doing dog duty. THAT would suck. But she had a few good medical tips for my owner. I think she understands that he needs all the help he can get.

You can see from this surveillance photo from the car what I did on the way home - nap time! And if you're wondering why my owners car has a surveillance camera in it so am I! I'm outta here!

My Cancer Check-up with Dr Schoen

Theme of the Day: Bloodtests!

Well, yippie. Here we are again! Dr Schoen's medical clinic. Just sitting around waiting for medical attention. Now that's the thing - I don't need any medical attention. I've done my best to not barf on the bed and to keep the upchucking of fur balls outdoors. It's like I'm being punished or something!

Dr Schoen apparently has some kind of affirmative action program at the clinic where she is forced against her will by federal law to treat some quota of dogs. Otherwise, I'm sure she wouldn't have dogs here. It's just too nice of a place.

I'm feeling fine and don't mind sitting here with my pretty owner even though the ride over in the PPU (personal prison unit) always gets me grumpy! They treat me like a criminal sometimes.

I glare at my other owner and he gets up so I snatch the opportunity for a more comfortable chair that I deserve that will remove me from a tile floor that the people here allow DOGS to run on.

I think dogs have peed in here. It doesn't smell, but it just has that weird creepy feeling that you get when dogs have been around indiscriminately urinating on things. I don't know why dog owners even bring them in to a vet. This world would be a better place with fewer dogs. Less barking, less poop surprises in the front yard. I was sitting on the fence in the front the other day and this big fat guy walks by with a dog on a leash (it's disgusting that dogs allow this leashing business). So anyways, this dog just squats in my front yard and takes a dump!

I can't tell you how ill this made me feel. If that dog had been there alone I would have chased him down and scratched his face off but in this case I was afraid the big fat guy, Mr Giganto, would topple over on me. They would have never found me!

I've strayed a little off topic - everyone but the most stupid humans know that dogs are the retards of the animal kingdom.

The other owner took this picture. To the extent that you can call it a picture - the composition is horrible! It's not like I expect Ansel Adams to return from the grave, but I just wish he would try a little harder. He always talkes about his fancy camera. I bet that thing is smarter than he is! Which would explain alot, I guess.

It turns out I'm here for a check up. Jennifer, who is a vet tech here and she's the one who looks after me at home when my owners desert me, spills the beans that I need some blood work done so my oncology vet (Dr Prouix <--- board certified) can send in a prescription for my cancer pills. This requires several vets and a medical laboratory to coordinate my treatment since these are human cancer drugs. My cancer is in remission but that doesn't make me any more thrilled to be called the cancer cat by my owners. But it's nice to know that everyone around here understands that I'm an important celebrity and requires a complete medical team for my well-being. That just comes with being so important.

So I'm here for a check up. I'm feeling fine (except for the ride in the PPU (personal prison unit) which always gets me in a bad mood! Dr Schoen comes in and starts doing her medical stuff - poking me in places that are not always pleasent. She must realize that I'm feeling fine since she seems so happy.

The good mood disappears in a hurry though when she grabs a torture instrument (see forensic photo below) and reaches around to my back side! At that point I demand that no more photos be taken. In the internet era, photos have a way of ending up on the internets. That's like celebrity cat 101. At any rate, just remembering this is putting me out of the mood to blog.

I do feel important though. This vet visit isn't cheap and that blood workup - well let's just say I'm glad that didn't come out of my Fancy Feast fund. And the pills - get this - 120 bucks for two months supply.

I'm feeling luved!

My oncology checkup! 9 month progress report

Well, here we are again! Just sitting around waiting for medical attention. I'm feeling fine and don't mind sitting here with my pretty owner. The other one took this picture. To the extent that you can call it a picture - the composition is horrible! I'm here for a check up. I'm feeling fine (except for the ride in the PPU (personal prison unit) which always gets me in a bad mood!

We don't have to wait long and Maggie, the Vet Tech, comes in. After a few pleasantries and questions she checks my weight. I'm always a little self-conscious when my weight is checked. I don't know what that's all about because when I checked this morning, I was looking mighty fine. So it turns out in the last 5 months I've gone from 11 lb 2 oz to 11 lb 10 oz. That's good news for me to gain 8 ounces! That's good because that virtually guarantees that I'll continue to get morning and evening Fancy Feast Grilled Seafood dinner with gravy! All the Fancy Feast's with gravy are super!

One thing that this hospital needs to do is get with the times. All my European cat friends always talk in metric and this place never does. That half a pound that I've added on to my handsomeness is 226 grams. You know what's really funny about that? That's about what a rat weighs! That's funny and disgusting at the same time!

Maggie takes me to the "back room" and I sit around for awhile. There don't seem to be any clear escape routes. Oh - and the "back room" is no "back room" - it's a major veterinary medical facility with so many gizmos it makes your head spin.

Well, it doesn't take long for them to get in gear. Time is money! (I've never heard them say that, but I bet they do! They got to with all the fancy art work on the walls around here. Everything is paintings of cats or dogs. Obviously no paintings of cats with dogs because that would be perverted! Now that I think about it, it's probably the cat paintings that are pricey; the dog paintings look rather cheap. To be honest, I wouldn't even call them art. I don't want to get into a discussion of Aesthetics but these dog paintings could only be considered art from a Relativistic point of view. You know, like dog paintings are good compared to mouse poo! ha ha ha! I'm sure for a couple of packages of Twinkies one could hire someone with a PhD in post-modernism to try and make sense out of dog paintings, but I don't have time for that kind of crap. Now let's get back to me!

Here I'm getting the needle because they have to take some of my blood so they can do a complete blood count (a CDC). They'll be able to tell me how I'm doing. That's good because I wouldn't want an incomplete blood count! People would start wondering what trailer park I was from! I wonder if this test could tell if dogs are vampires? I bet quite a few of them are. It seems just like the sort of disgusting thing a dog would like to do. Lots of dogs are blood fetishists so it only stands to reason that lots of them are vampires. That's just common sense!

Well finally I get real medical attention. By "real" I mean from a real doctor. And not a regular vet type. My doctor, Dr Prouix is certified and stuff. His name sounds French but I don't think he is because he's really nice. He's a certified Diplomate in Oncology and in Radiation Oncology. I don't know what the hell that means but if you have two Diplomate things that has to be good! Plus, his titles sound really scientific. I like that - I don't want some witch doctor throwing some chicken bones to tell me how I'm doing!

Although I'm getting checked over plenty good, I'm starting to get a little tired of it. I get poked, blood drawn, my heart listened to by one of those stetho-thingies.

I THOUGHT things were going pretty good until THIS little procedure took place! Since the first time I went to a vet I've thought vet techs are sneaky. They always act really nice and then the next thing you know you either have a needle poked in you or something poked up your behind!

Well, I'm all done and hanging out with the two owners to see how I scored on the tests. Or whatever they do with them.

It's all good news too! My blood scores are all normal and Dr. P says that my cancer is for all practical purposes in remission. I'm a little uneasy about this "for all practical purposes" lingo, but I'll let it slide. I'm feeling fine and I'm certainly looking fine, and I have a great appetite so life seems good to me! You might even say I have an appetite for life! It's been five months since I was here last and I've gained a rat's worth of weight and they say I'm good. Of course, I know I'm good. Hell, I'm good when I'm bad! HA! I'm going out and hunt lizards now! Sweeet!