I have moved up to the All Prizes Included level of my headcold. I have coughing. I have sneezing. I have an awful taste in my mouth all the time. I have a crusty nose. I have even LESS voice than I had yesterday. I have a head stuffed with a mixture of toxic sludge and glass shards.
I am also cranky. If you could taste what I'm tasting, you'd be cranky. The whole world would be cranky, and walking around with its tongue hanging out.
The Ophelia seems recovered from her adventures of yesterday. She spent the night in her little crate with her own litter pan covered with the magic paper sprinkles the Vet gave us that will detect when her sugar is elevated. She ate pretty well yesterday and again this morning. She is currently sleeping on the bed just an arm's reach away, purring and snoring occasionally.
We tried to check her sugar level last night, but it is INCREDIBLY difficult to use a glucometer on a cat. We gave up. Not that she fought us -- she's being suspiciously patient about all the poking and prodding she's had to endure, which is so much NOT normal Ophelia behavior. As if to prove she was feeling better, she bitched somewhat when we clipped her toenails last night and was downright huffy about it. Of course, now she isn't snagging on everything.
So, today we do the same thing -- crate for special food, try to check her bloodsugar. No insulin though. Tomorrow, once again to the vet. Joy. The Emergency Vet said she could have already gone into remission (wow, that would be sudden) which means the insulin would be poison to her. Sheesh, this is complicated.
The one fun point is watching Pooty and Ben try to figure out how to get the leftover food out of the crate (Ophelia is a nibbler and always has leftovers). Pooty, in particular, has a very long paw. There's a towel in the bottom of the crate and he had hooked it to drag the little paper plate of food close enough. Very smart cat. Also, greedy.
Ok, time to go back to my snotball paradise.