This past week has given me a load of rows to hoe and think about. One week ago, my darling (and she truly is) 2-y-o Maine Coon kitten (don't care if she's 2, she's still my little kitten) came to me in the bathroom and I knelt down to pet her but when I looked at her face, I almost fainted from shock. Her right eye was partially protruding from her eyelids. I'm almost starting to cry now, just thinking about it. I picked her up and did a quick assessment. She wasn't panting or sweating and hadn't batted at the eye with her paws, so I figured she wasn't in serious pain, but I knew that eye had to come out and we had to get to a vet and quickly. Of course, it was Sunday and 9:00 pm (EST), so my vet was closed and the only possibility was the extremely expensive emergency vet, but I made a call to my former (my son's dad) and asked if he would drive us to the vet and cover the cost with his credit card till I got my monthly disability check. Thank God, he agreed. Short story: they got her set with an Elizabethan collar and some pain meds and said we could wait till the morning for the operation and have it done by our own vet, not the emergency folks, so the cost would be less prohibitive. I knew it was still going to be expensive, but I knew we'd figure out something.
On the way home, even with the collar and not having the meds kick in yet, she sat on my lap purring and licking my hand as I pet her ears and rubbed her tum. Even with her eye exposed, she still had the love to give me and seemingly reassure me that it was going to be ok and not to worry.
Today, she's home; looking like my little Franken-kitty with 19 stitches across the right side of her face and no right eye, but she's still my little love and crawls into my lap to give me little kisses and big purrs. Though her world has been totally turned sideways (literally -- she has to learn to navigate all over again just using a left eye that doesn't see very well either), she still is happy and glad to be home and forever cuddly and soft and my little miracle.
So what if I can't sleep because the stoma hurts like hell? I still have a cat that loves me even if I made her have a major operation and two nights away from her snugglies in a vet hospital. So what if my bank account is in uproar for a couple of months. The money spent was well worth it and we got help from a generous donation from an unknown fund for which I'm thanking God. We still have our Kynny and she still has us. That's more than enough for now.