ProfessorTomoe

Baker is having some trouble adapting to life without a feeding tube. He's thrown up his kibble four straight days now. His evening activity level is rather low, but he's still somewhat active in the morning. He is meowing a lot more than normal throughout the day, though not so much today. Mrs. Prof finally called the vet around noon, who said Baker's pancreatitis may be acting up again. The vet clinic has standing orders to give Baker IV fluids and anti-nausea medicine on arrival if we ever bring him back in. Fortunately, Baker has had three small meals since throwing up breakfast and has kept all of them down. Fingers crossed.

Baker the cat's ordeal is over! The vet removed his feeding tube today and pronounced him healthy. We don't have to give him any more medicines or anything like that. All we have to do is keep his neck collar on while his feeding tube hole heals up. We were afraid Baker was going to die on us when all of this began. If it wasn't for a group of great vets and Baker's will to live, we would have lost him. We nurtured that will to live - Mrs. Prof, especially - and now, Baker is back to his sassy self. Thank goodness.

It's been a week since my last post, and Baker continues to astound us with his progress. He has returned to his pre-thread-eating weight of 13.6 pounds and has, to a limited degree, resumed running through the house again. Last night was the first night that he broke out into a sprint, albeit a somewhat hampered one. He also showed interest in his laser pointer for the first time since all this began last night. He's eating more kibble, however he got into his housemate's kibble and wound up throwing up yesterday. Fortunately, there was no damage to his feeding tube. He's still being fed through the tube several times a day, and he's getting wily about feeding time - he runs off and tries to hide, even though he is docile during the actual feeding. His stitches are out, so now he just has a shaved tummy and some minor scabbing. He's also got a new feeding tube collar which Mrs. Prof mail-ordered. He's not too keen on it: he keeps scratching at it. The old one is in the wash, so he's stuck with this one until the old one dries. I'm watching him closely - right-side scratching is okay, but left-side ist verboten. His body has finally filled back out again, thanks to the weight gain. He was looking very gaunt when his weight was in the mid-12-pound region. You could feel the bones along his back and see that his face was very angular. Now, his face is round and full, and his back and shoulders/hips have some muscle on them again. His next trip to the vet will be Thursday of this week to determine when his feeding tube comes out. He may have to be weaned off of it, because even though he's eating kibble, he's not eating enough to sustain himself. All will be told at the vet's office.

Seconded.

After a long (too long) hiatus, I have finally returned to working on my novel, Tapper. My music has been put on the back burner for the time being—I've been working on it for an unusually long time anyway. I picked up Tapper and did some long-overdue rewrites and polishing on it, starting about a week ago. I put the finishing touches on it today and uploaded it to Scribophile. If you want to read it, all you have to do is join Scribophile (no fee required for a basic membership - they don't spam you) and start reading from this link. If you want to help me write, you can critique the novel, but you'll have to go to my profile page and make me a "favorite" of yours first (look for the link below my picture on the left-hand side of the page). That way you'll get full credit (a.k.a. "karma") for your critique. I'm seriously looking to get this novel published this time around, so I would appreciate every bit of input that I can get. Thank you in advance!

I am a walking barometer. I have so much metal implanted in my feet and ankles that any kind of weather change sets off my pain receptors. I'm glad they don't set off any kind of adverse reactions in the Greenfield Filter I have implanted in my Inferior Vena Cava.

Baker asleep with his feeding tube visible:

Mrs. Prof and I were finally able to leave the house together yesterday to do some grocery shopping, without fear for Baker's life. This Sunday, we'll be going to a Super Bowl watch party. That's how significant his progress has been. He has come back literally from the brink of death to being a normal cat with the run of the house. He still hasn't returned to his full, boisterous self who bounced off the walls twice a day - I doubt if he'll ever return to that level of activity - but he's acting more like himself now than he has at any point since ingesting the sewing thread. We still have him at the front of our thoughts (or, at least I do (Mrs. Prof most likely does as well)). I worry about him not having anything blocking access to his surgical scar during the day (Mrs. Prof's idea). However, the vet said she was more concerned about him doing "excess grooming" of the scar, and he certainly hasn't done that. Maybe I worry too much. I don't know. Maybe I've just missed one dose too many of my antidepressant. Still, Baker continues to improve without back-tracking, and that's what counts, despite my worries.

Overdue update on Baker the cat: Baker has been through a lot since my last update. He's home, being fed through a tube by Mrs. Prof several times a day. He's also finally eating on his own to supplement the tube feeding. Mrs. Prof thought we were going to lose him at least once, but I reminded her of what the vet told us (especially when he found out we have pet insurance): Don't Give Up. Sure enough, Baker pulled through on the night in question and has improved steadily. He's now off his pain medication and back to climbing his cat exercise tree. The vet did blood work at yesterday's follow-up appointment and was very happy with what she saw. Baker's white blood cell count is getting back to normal, as are his BUN numbers. Other numbers are still slightly out of whack, forcing him to remain on some medications (ursodiol, for one). He's also going to get a booster dose of appetite stimulant. He'll be back in the vet in a week to have his abdominal stitches removed, then again a few weeks after that to have his feeding tube removed. All in all, we're not out of the woods yet, but we can at least see the highway from where we're standing. Attached picture is of Baker (feeding tube not visible) with Mrs. Prof in the background.

The tightness in my back is almost gone, which is nice. Another nice thing is the fact that I can once again lift my left leg more than about 4 inches off the ground. Before, I couldn't lift it onto a chair or other raised surface to help with putting on shoes, getting into a car, or drying off after a shower. This was due to pain linked to one of my spinal nerves. Now that those nerves have been ablated, I no longer feel the pain and can once again lift my leg. It's like someone hit a light switch and turned off the pain - a wonderful sensation.

Latest update: We've figured out how to stop Baker from yowling and scratching. All he wanted was a place to hide. So, Mrs. Prof made up a cardboard box with a fabric curtain cover. Baker immediately dove into the box, behind the curtain. He's happy now. Baker is not so happy with being fed via his tube. Mrs. Prof hasn't been able to give him an entire syringe of food at a single sitting, and Baker struggles through the entire procedure. (Baker is not a lap cat.) She manages to get most of the food in, but not without Baker burping at the end. In other news, she's got to make another trip to the vet to pick up more medicine. The nurses gave her too little of one of the prescriptions, so she needs to get more before tomorrow morning's dosing.

Baker is home. His first act was to try and run under the sofa. Twice. He's since been isolated in a prepared bedroom, where he's spotted all of the areas that we didn't prepare properly and tried to get out through them or hide in them. The cat is well and truly freaked. The only solution was for Mrs. Prof to go back and sleep with him on the guest bed. Baker is, after all, her cat, based upon how much time he spends with her and how much she spoils him. (Loudmouth would be considered my cat by those same benchmarks.) When I last checked, Baker was curled up against the wall on the mattress, and Mrs. Prof was curled around him, with her nightly accoutrements close at hand. Baker was no longer trying to get away. This is going to be a very long, very tedious, and very trying time for all of us. Please wish us (including Baker) luck so that we can make it through the ordeal.

Update: the burning sensation has gone, leaving only the tightness, which is fading. Problem areas remain just above my hip, with continued sensations of tightness there. The hospital called to check up on me - they said this was more or less a common reaction that I should be done with in no more than a week or two, if that long. I've been sleeping with my head on a pair of stacked pillows to keep my spine straight. Seems to be helping, since I wake up from each oxycodone-induced nap with a little bit less tightness.

Note: overall, we're both glad we have very good pet insurance. Mrs. Prof took the prudent step to call and confirm Baker's coverage this morning. The agent on the phone said we are covered, thankfully. There's a $250 deductible, then everything is covered at 90%. We're already approaching (if not exceeding) $5,000 in real world charges for Baker, so this takes the sting out of that and makes decisions about his care much easier. We haven't had to say no to a procedure yet.

The feeding tube is in, however it hasn't been tested yet and won't be for another 30 minutes to an hour. Mrs. Prof. got to see Baker briefly in an exam room - he didn't want to be held (nothing new), just wanted to bounce around clumsily as he was still coming out from under anesthesia. She ended the reunion quickly, then spoke to the doctor about his continuing fever. She was told not to treat it, but to treat the underlying condition instead. All in all, Baker will be coming home either this evening or tomorrow morning, depending on the success of using the feeding tube. We're braced either way. Now to find an E-collar that fits. Baker is mostly fluff. It's going to be difficult sizing something to his actual neck.

Blood tests and ultrasound results are back for Baker. The diagnosis of severe pancreatitis has been confirmed, with his pancreas described as "angry" on the ultrasound. Pancreatic numbers were around 25, way above the zero-to-threeish normal range. No other problems were found in his abdomen. The doctors are now going to insert a feeding tube into Baker's neck so he can be fed liquids to prevent fatty liver development. They'll then send him home so that we can take care of him. They said they want him out and about, and no longer cooped up in a kennel. Fortunately, our other cat should avoid him just because of the odd smells. He's not out of the woods yet, but he'll be out of the hospital soon enough. Any step forward is an encouraging one.

Something like that. The surgeon wore a lead suit to protect himself. He did it to the nerves along the left side of my lower back.

Baker's temperature is still going up and down. His bilirubin and white blood cell counts are elevated now. A two-day blood test should bear results tomorrow and tell whether the diagnosis of pancreatitis is correct. The doctor is planning to run an abdominal ultrasound in the morning as well. If pancreatitis is confirmed, they'll start feeding Baker with a tube.

Back procedure went off successfully. I'm dealing with some tightness and pain in the affected area, which I'm supposed to be treating with ice, but my cat is sleeping next to me and I don't want to disturb him, especially since he's caught an upper respiratory bug. (Both cats ill now - it never rains, but it pours.) I'm sitting still instead and letting the oxycodone take care of things.

Update: Baker took a turn for the worse overnight. His fever spiked to around 104°F. The doctor told my wife that he's showing signs of pancreatitis. They've got him on a wide-spectrum antibiotic and are watching him closely.

I'm having a back procedure done today (radio ablation of the spinal nerves, L2-S5, left side) to help alleviate my chronic, severe back pain. I'll be in the hospital at about 8:00 a.m. CST and for a few hours afterward, if things go well. I'm hoping for no adverse side effects from this procedure, because there is at least one (a nasty, prolonged burning sensation of the affected area) that I definitely do not want. Please wish me health and luck through the procedure - I need all of both that I can get.

One of our cats is in the hospital. A few days back, Baker, the healthier of our two cats - one who usually bounces off the walls in the mornings and at night - started throwing up at mealtime. Yesterday, he didn't eat, and he barfed a very large amount that was very smelly. My wife decided to take him to a 24-hour fully-staffed vet office. Some background info: my wife recently brought out her serger sewing machine for the first time in decades to help make some cat trap covers. The sick cat managed to unroll one of the spools on top of the serger and string it around the house. She suspected that he might have done more: that he might have eaten some of the string. Hence, the emergency visit to the vet. As it turns out, her suspicions were correct. X-rays showed looping of the bowel on one side of Baker's abdomen. The staff surgeon operated immediately. He had to cut into three areas of Baker's intestines to remove all of the string that he'd swallowed, but at least the string was intact and hadn't cut through any of his GI tract. The surgeon had operated just in time. This afternoon, we went to the hospital and paid Baker a visit. He looked quite miserable, with an incision in his abdomen and an IV with fluids and with a motility factor going into him. He had yet to eat anything. The nurse showed us the string he'd swallowed, and it was a rather good amount. Scary. Mrs. Prof brought a couple of things up with her. One item was a blanket he sleeps on. She put it in his kennel, and he immediately moved onto it, drawn by his own smell. The other bit was a few packets of meat treats. He wasn't up for taking them yet. He was up for a good deal of attention from her, and by the time we left, he looked considerably perked up. Later on at home, just before Mrs. Prof left to run some cat errands, she broke down. She cried, saying she knew it was her fault that Baker had eaten the string. I reassured her as best as I could, telling her that there was no way we could have predicted that Baker would have done what he did, and that she took the proper steps as soon as we figured out what was going on. So, for now, Baker is stable, still at the hospital until at least Thursday. Mrs. Prof is more or less stable, although this is going to hurt for a long time. She's ordered a case for her serger so that Baker can't get to the spools anymore. In the end, we're waiting for the hospital to call us on Thursday and let us know if Baker can come home.

Didn't quite work. Mrs. Prof has traced her lineage back to the Plantagenet kings.

Day 3 of the Barrett-Jackson automobile auctions on Motortrend network (used to be Velocity network). Some unique and awesome cars crossing the auction block, like a 1954 Kaiser-Darrin sports car that sold for $82,000 and a 1966 Chevrolet Corvette that just sold for a cool $100,000. I've been watching the Barrett-Jackson (no relation) auctions for a long time. Even watched them when I was in the hospital back in 2009, recuperating from my broken ankles and botched gastric bypass. An odd link showed up tonight between that auction and this one: they auctioned off a special-edition "Iacocca" version of the Ford Mustang for charity. It brought in $1,000,000 (not unusual for charity cars). Well, that car went back up for auction tonight - no charity involved, just a straight, no-reserve sale. The final price? $64,000. I only hope the owner was able to write off that million bucks when they originally bought it.

The partial amputation has finally healed enough so that I can go back to wearing a compression stocking on my left foot. That's good, because I've been forgetting to put them on until much too late in the day lately, resulting in both ankles swelling up and hurting. Very oww.