Rollercoaster

What a day it's been. I'm completely wrung out.

I took Ariel in to the vet because she hadn't been eating much, if anything, in days. After a preliminary exam, the vet told me that she was running a fever, and it was quite likely that she had Feline Infectious Peritonitis. Which is a nasty disease, apparently not uncommon in shelters, for which ~ and I quote ~ "the prognosis is not good." Basically: incurable and fatal.

They took some blood and asked me to leave her with them until they had results which would indicate whether further diagnostics were in order.

The moment I left the pet hospital I burst into tears. I drove home sobbing. I called friends, sobbing. I sat at my computer, sobbing. How could it be that this little itty-bitty bundle of furry sweetness could be dying after such a short time with me?

Three hours later the vet called. And basically she said: oops.

Ariel did not have a fever. Her bloodwork was all perfectly normal. They'd give her routine de-worming medicine (although it wasn't clear she needed it), and some liquid Pepcid AC for me to administer, but basically she seemed perfectly healthy. Take her home and keep an eye on her weight, but she's probably fine.

So:

• a) YAY!; and
• b) WTF????!!!!

Give my sweet fur-face a death sentence and then say 'nevermind' three hours later??

Come to find out that the vet is an intern at the hospital, specializing in urgent care. So I'm thinking she sees everything as a worst-case scenario. Needless to say, I made an appointment with a DIFFERENT vet for her rabies shot in a couple of weeks.

Of course now, using the power of the internets, I've read all up on FIP... enough to realize that Ariel is, in fact, not necessarily free and clear. Apparently symptoms can come and go. The fever, for example. So I'll be keeping a close eye on her, and watching carefully to make sure that she gains healthy weight in the next week.

The best news: since coming home she's eaten nearly a quarter cup of kibble. You have NO IDEA what a victory that is.

I, of course, am a shattered wreck. But I'm bravely going off to see Superman Returns, which I'm sure will soothe my tattered spirits.