My sweet kitty Sputnik has been having a bit more trouble the past week or so. For those of you not following the saga of Sputnik VonWiskars, Sputty is my precious 15 year old tuxedo cat who was diagnosed with a bladder tumor back in December.
He's been doing remarkably well all things considered, but the past week or so he's been having more urinary "issues."
I had avoided calling the vet because I was afraid and worried that it all meant that the end was near.
Anyhow, I left a message saying that I thought we should go ahead and try that, not expecting it to be returned until today. So today finally rolled around and I waited and waited and waited.
Around 4pm I finally called and talked to the vet tech who said she'd try to catch him between appointments and see if he would just OK the meds so I could come pick them up. But still no call.
I was sure this meant that the vet had decided that Sputty was beyond hope and that he was gonna pressure me to have him put to sleep. The last time we talked the vet was encouraging another round of testing, and I was sure he was looking for justification to tell me that I had to euthanize Sputty.
Finally around 7 the vet called and we talked it all over.
Turned out the vet wasn't thinking anything remotely like that. Apparently the fact that Sputty has a mass in his bladder makes him much more susceptible to bacterial infections, so he wanted to discuss the possibility of trying another round of antibiotics.
He also mentioned further tests again, but this time he clarified that the point would be to decide if maybe we wanted to reconsider the option of surgery since it obviously isn't the fast growing cancer that he originally thought it was.
We decided to try prednisone again, and if that doesn't help then we'll try antibiotics, and if he's still having a really rough time then we'll consider further tests and maybe revisit the idea of surgery. Not a word about euthanasia.
When I hung up the phone I felt about seven million times better. But I also can't help but feel like I'm some sort of an idiot. Why am I so quick to jump to the worst possible conclusion?
And why am I always convinced that somebody is gonna make me do something that I don't want to?
On closer inspection, I guess I know why. Ever since Sputnik got sick my parents have been pressuring me to have him put to sleep. In their opinion he's basically outlived his usefulness now that he's become "inconvenient" so I should just euthanize him and be done with it.
Needless to say, I've been avoiding my parents more than usual during the past six months because I don't want to subject myself to their crazy and unwelcome opinions. But I guess that sort of stuff has a way of burrowing itself into your inner psyche in a very pernicious manner.
I mean clearly, I had just projected all of my parents' crazy stuff onto my vet, which wasn't at ALL where my vet was coming from.
It all just makes me wonder what other ways I do this sort of thing. There are plenty of times that I'm just sure that "everybody" holds xyz opinion, or judgment or whatever, when none of it is true.
One would think that I would have learned this lesson by now, but apparently not.
Just my thought for the day...