Our almost-eight-year-old cat, my favorite pet out of all the pets I've ever owned, is very sick. We had an appointment for him to be seen tomorrow, but he was so sick that I was worried he wouldn't make it until tomorrow. I convinced the vet to squeeze him in to be seen today. The news is not good. My husband has now had to take him to their vet hospital branch for tests. If he has what the doctor suspects, it has a 100% mortality rate and I will lose my beloved cat.
I think I'm going to lose my cat, but I am still holding out hope that the tests will find that something else, something treatable, is wrong with him.
In the meantime, the stress and sorrow have me crying and I am struggling not to binge eat. (I won't. I can win at least at this.)
Our elliptical crosstrainer (the replacement for out third broken one) arrived today. I may need to workout some stress on it.
A picture of my cat, Caspian: