Well, I'm calmer this morning because Pidge is calmer. She slept w/me last night and she got up several times to eat, drink and use the litterbox. She's still very congested, though, so the antihistamine isn't helping much yet. I'm going to put her in the bathroom and steam her in a little while. She's never been a lap cat but on occasion, she'd hop up on the sofa beside me and tap my arm as if to say "Mom, could I please have some attention?" So I wondered how sleeping w/me was going to go but she actually curled up w/me at one point.

I apologize for my rant yesterday but I still feel the necessity to talk to Dr. Lee about the treatment I received. As I said, it isn't he that gave me such treatment. I think you all know from my previous posts how I feel about him: he hung the moon. And I'm not a prima donna; I don't expect preferential treatment even though, at times, he has given me such but that was at his discretion and not something that I would ever demand. I also realize that his staff is trained to use their judgment on which calls are important enough to interrupt a vet. That's my beef. The person that I spoke to did not use good judgment. When someone is crying and saying that her cat can't breathe and that her tongue is hanging out and that she's scared, that should have been a red flag. How much more obvious can you get? Plus the staff all know me and my history and I had just been there the day before and had told them 30 minutes earlier that day that Pidge was not improving. I could tell when speaking to Dr. F that he was remorseful, not because of anything that he did, but because the call had not been put through to him. The clincher was putting me on hold for what seemed like an eternity during such a crisis to the point where I had to hang up and no one even bothered to call back to see if we had been disconnected or what the problem was. Dr. F did finally call me but not until 4 hours later. Pidge could've been dead by then had I waited for his call. My vindication came when Dr. F told me that I did the right thing by hanging up and going to Dr. B. Otherwise, Pidge would not have lived. Those words rang in my ears all night.

So I'll take Pidge in for the ultrasound tomorrow and have them do blood work as well to check for thyroid because Dr. B says that sometimes thyroid is a contributing factor in cardiomyopathy. I have to call her in the morning and explain why I'm not going back to her and I sure don't want to hurt her feelings. She's been a jewel. But she can't interpret ultrasound readings so I just don't have the time to waste going back and forth and I don't want to stress Pidge any more than necessary.

For now, Pidgelet is holding her own. No more crying, at least. That was breaking my heart. She'd open her mouth wide like a crying baby and I felt like such a traitor, turning her over to the whitecoats when it's her mom she wanted but those whitecoats saved her life. That and my PT friends' prayers. Thank you again, dear ones. It's much appreciated.