Buster – my cat – has had one of his two sets of results back from the vet; for those who haven’t followed the tale:

back story

Buster started looking a bit bloated last week, and on saturday Dave kindly stopped in and walked him down to the local vet; the diagnosis was “fluid in the abdomen”, and the suspected cause “hyperthyroidism”, indicated by enlarged glands.

A blood test confirmed elevated levels of thyroxene (“at the top end of normal”) and so he’s been put on twice-daily pills of Felimazole for a fortnight, after which he’ll be reassessed. It’s possible that he’ll be on pills for life, although stuff on the Web suggests this may have bad long term side-effects it would probably be better than surgical reduction of the glands; 13-year-old cats tend not to do well with surgery.

…after a week of felimazole he looked worse, so was ferried to the vet last saturday, and further tests were determined necessary, administered monday.

The cytology of the abdominal fluid was “negative” for liver cancer cells, which was a concern and remains one, but rather less-likely now. The results of advanced blood tests should be back tomorrow.

He seems to be stable and happy, if a bit whiny, and we’re doing everything we can for him.

Regarding me: I am past the 50% mark. I no longer feel like I am a damaged person healing, but instead like a normal person, damaged.

On tuesday afternoon, with my mind on other things, I made it halfway upstairs before I realised I was using the bannister and no crutch. I am also walking unaided a lot more, although any significant distance tires me out.

My back aches like being pummelled in the kidneys in a barfight after a day’s digging the garden, and my knee twinges savagely if I load it askew. Everything – all my joints – click like maracas.

But I am getting better, and hoping Buster will, too.