(Oh, and I still have a zombie eye)

So, on Wednesday night, Eostre apparently decided that the several thousand dollars we’ve spent on Grimoire this year* made her feel left out, and she made clear her need to visit the ER vet. Thankfully Morgana was home and free so I didn’t have to navigate the streets at night (which I would have done if I’d had to, but the stress of driving when I’m blinded by the halos of oncoming headlights and street lights on top of the stress of having a sick cat is less than optimal).

To keep the story short: Her creatine levels were elevated, indicating possible kidney disease, so they’ve been giving her subcu fluids and antibiotics and whatnot. The ultrasound of her kidneys came back normal (normal to the point of looking better than the kidneys of a cat her age should even look, because she is a mutant, I tell you), which means if it is kidney disease, we’ve caught it at the very beginning. As of today, they’ve confirmed she also has a urinary tract infection, poor thing, so they’re sorting that out as well. Hopefully she’ll be able to come home tomorrow (her creatine and other levels are going down, but they’d like to get them all the way down).

I visited her today, and she was delighted to see me; wouldn’t purr but demanded scritchies until the air was clouded with white fur. She’s been on a hunger strike, but she ate a bit when I asked her to, so that was good. The vets were somewhat amused by how adorable she was, because apparently when I’m not there, she turns into the Tasmanian Devil and attempts to claw people’s faces off. She can be a bit…feisty. :-)

So, I’m hoping it’s just an infection and not Chronic Renal Failure, but even if it is CRF, most cats can live comfortably for years under proper supervision. Which would probably mean that now each cat would be on his/her own separate expensive special food, and they’ll have to be separated at meal times. What joy.

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Tuesday I toddled off to Textile Guild and worked on a couple of peplos and hemmed a linen hankie to embroider. I’ve been struck with the desire to finish a bunch of little handwork projects in various stages of completion, and that was especially nice when I was recovering from the food poisoning. (Relatively simple fiddly things to do with my hands while watching hours of TV.)

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Yesterday was full of errands, some for things to bring Ken at the checkpoint on Sunday. However, bleah, it’s too hot to run errands. In fact, the heat is making me want to do nothing more than flop on the sofa and read, which is a problem when I have things like, oh, deadlines to deal with. Sigh.

Speaking of deadlines, now I must get back to work.

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IBR Update: The first checkpoint was in St. Charles, IL, on Wednesday, and at that point Ken was in the 38th position (out of 101 riders). His extra fuel cell’s gauge has been a little wonky, and yesterday he ran out of gas 1.5 miles from the town he was planning to get gas in. Another rider he knows actually went into town to get him gas. (They’re pretty much expected to stop for one another if there’s an emergency, so it’s especially wonderful that this guy took precious time out of his rally schedule to help Ken. Hail chivalry!)

In fact, Ken says one of the nicest things about the IBR is the camaraderie. There’s something about riding along some random highway, he says, and seeing one of the other competitors—there’s a connection there, you know? Very cool.

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*A few months of thinking he had cancer, then a little while of exploring pancreatitis and parathyroid problems and whatnot, to then conclude that he just was going to produce too much calcium and we had to give him subcutaneous fluids every other day or so, until he finally spontaneously just got better. On his own. Bastard. (She says affectionately.)