The Panic.

ETA: Context for those not on my flist.

Olivebean around her 1st birthday
This is Olive.


This is her story. She is about a year and a half old. She's already been through a lot in her short little life, but she's a fighter. She's also cost us over $2,000 easy this year on vet bills due to a serious eye infection that required a specialist ophthalmologist, and now her strange and funny gait has turned into something that is slipping ever closer and closer to paralysis. The $400 x-rays confirmed that four of the vertebrae in her upper back seem to be fused together or at least malformed in a way that is putting pressure on her spine. The rapid degeneration of her back leg function seems to be suggesting that this is doing damage to her spinal cord. In short: I am a panicked mess. Our vet has referred us to a veterinary neurologist, and her first appt is Thursday.

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Called up Olive's new neurologist, Dr. Gainsburg. Interestingly enough, he's based out of the same operation where we took her for her thousand-dollar eye infection. We were able to bump up her appointment to Thursday morning-- before we leave. Since things seem to be progressing more quickly now, we figured it was for the best.

He thinks she will need an MRI. We will get an estimate on Thursday. But my googlesearching says that an MRI for a cat can be anywhere from $700 - $3000. That is money we don't have. Were it not already paid for earlier in the summer, I would under no circumstances be going to NC next week, and then our anniversary weekend in October. I mean, we never got to go on a honeymoon, so I shouldn't feel TOO guilty, but still. There you have it. I'll probably still take work on vacation to try to get some more stuff up the minute we get home. I can make more pumpkin earrings, for instance.

Anyhow, any spare money we have from now on is going towards Olive. A friend has a tip about a local animal hospital that *may* be able to give us a loan, or at the very least put us on a payment plan. I have my fingers crossed. Because if she turns out to need surgery, that is going to be a drop in the bucket.

(And yes, for the record, one person has said "but it's just a cat!" to me, and I had to forcibly stop myself from clawing at his goddamn face.)

Breathe. Breathe. Oh my god, breathe.

So. Game plan: the next group of labradorite pendants will be going on Ebay in hopes that an auction will fetch more money. I will be brainstorming a collection of earrings JUST for fundraising. Many of you guys have suggested I accept donations. It may come to that, but I'm going to try to earn it first. If it looks like that won't happen, I will accept donations, and then turn any potential overages over to a local no-kill shelter. Probably Small Miracles-- where Flissy took "Sampson," the snuggly kitty boy we rescued a few months ago. (Who, by the way, is no longer on their adoptions page. I need to call and confirm he was given a home, but considering they're an excellent shelter, signs are hopeful.) ETA: He was adopted! WOO HOO.

I have been having panic attacks all day. I want to barf and cry and pass out all in one go.