Last night we had to take my 18 year old cat, Sasha, to the emergency veterinary clinic. After a couple of hours (She was feeling a bit feisty and had to be sedated) the doctor came out and told us that she appeared to be perfectly healthy, except for having something in her bladder. The "something" could be a mass, a blood clot, or a stone. The vet suggested a return visit to see their radiologist for $370.00. In the meantime, she prescribed an antibiotic on the premise that a blood clot would be due to an infection and that could be cleared up in a few days. I could then follow up with my regular vet assuming they possessed the equipment and talent to correctly do an ultrasound, MRI, or x-ray. Of course her lovely clinic had all of that, plus a lot of specialists as well. If I were a pet, I would definitely want to go there. As a pet owner, I would love for them to do everything possible to ensure that my bundle of non-judgemental love and support has anything and everything that she needs, regardless of the cost. Under different circumstances, I would happily go back sans pet just to hang out in the serene lobby using the Wi-Fi and working my way through the different K-cups they had for their Keurig. The bill for the night was $150.00 since the more expensive antibiotic was out of stock at the in clinic pharmacy. I am guessing that is about $50.00 more than my old fashioned vet with the 1960's decor would charge, of course I would have been in the room to help manage my pet during the exam so maybe that would justify the price difference. I know that people have pet emergencies all of the time, and my story is not unique. We have had pet emergencies as well, just never with Sasha. This blog post is not even really about the vet visit, more about the chain of thinking that it started.
My mom paid for my cat to see the vet. This was after my husband, son and I spent the afternoon shopping for school clothes with money given to us by Mom, the person also footing the bill for Greyson to attend preschool. She also footed the bill for fuel, ferry rides, and rodeo tickets on our most recent visit to Eastern Washington. She routinely picks up milk and other staples, and frequently takes us to breakfast on Sundays, then grocery shopping so she can be sure my husband has healthy lunches for the week. She has been letting us use her car and keeping the gas tank full for almost four months while the junker that we can't afford to replace has been in for repair. This is in addition to giving me money whenever I have an emergency or she wants me just to go out and have some fun. Somehow, it really hit home in the wee hours-I can't take care of myself, or my family. I am a great mom, and I have a wonderfully confident and intelligent little boy that makes me proud. Despite that fact, my little family has nothing in reserve. If we had another medical emergency tonight, I would have to call on my mom for assistance again. She is eighty, and I am forty-three. How did I let things get to this point? More to the point, how do I get back from this point. Yes, something bad happened eight years ago. Instead of time healing things, I seem to just be getting more and more broken. Being a mom seems to be the only thing I can do with any degree of confidence, but being a mom does not pay the bills.
My mom paid for my cat to see the vet. This was after my husband, son and I spent the afternoon shopping for school clothes with money given to us by Mom, the person also footing the bill for Greyson to attend preschool. She also footed the bill for fuel, ferry rides, and rodeo tickets on our most recent visit to Eastern Washington. She routinely picks up milk and other staples, and frequently takes us to breakfast on Sundays, then grocery shopping so she can be sure my husband has healthy lunches for the week. She has been letting us use her car and keeping the gas tank full for almost four months while the junker that we can't afford to replace has been in for repair. This is in addition to giving me money whenever I have an emergency or she wants me just to go out and have some fun. Somehow, it really hit home in the wee hours-I can't take care of myself, or my family. I am a great mom, and I have a wonderfully confident and intelligent little boy that makes me proud. Despite that fact, my little family has nothing in reserve. If we had another medical emergency tonight, I would have to call on my mom for assistance again. She is eighty, and I am forty-three. How did I let things get to this point? More to the point, how do I get back from this point. Yes, something bad happened eight years ago. Instead of time healing things, I seem to just be getting more and more broken. Being a mom seems to be the only thing I can do with any degree of confidence, but being a mom does not pay the bills.
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