Your Prayers Worked

I just got off the phone with my daughter.  We hadn't heard from her since the big emergency of Tuesday night and the trip to the 24 hour clinic.  Like you, I thought things were not going well and just gave her space to deal with it.  And I was afraid of the news I would be hearing.

But.  Moomin is home.  She picked him up after work today (6pm) and he is eating, peeing and stepping in his water bowl.  Acting like the sweet boy we have all grown to love.  My daughter wasn't going to let him go without doing everything she could to save his life.  And all those prayers from you all helped!!!

Sam is writing a post about the events on her blog Slambo (in the sidebar) sometime this evening and you should go there to see what she has to say and see pictures of the boy himself.

Moomin did not have Angry Airways and the steroids just made everything worse. A wrong diagnosis can sometimes be dangerous to your health. Moomin does have congestive heart failure and he did have a blood clot which caused all the panic and fear on Tuesday evening.  He had lost function in his rear legs and was stumbling and twitching.  My daughter and I thought he may have had a stroke.  He didn't. We were lucky the clot didn't lodge in his lungs or brain and cause damage.  It just broke up.  See, the power of positive, loving thoughts from many people.  Little miracles.

The staff at the 24 hour clinic were excellent and had Moomin stay a bit longer today so they could slowly do diagnostic tests on him without causing him additional stress.  My daughter will be working from home tomorrow so she can monitor his breathing.  She still has to make sure the fluids don't build up around his heart.  Now the cat is taking the same meds as my dad was taking.  Lasix and baby aspirin.

I think I will be able to get a good night's sleep tonight.

Funny thing happened at work.  A customer wanted to know my hand care regiment because my hands looked so good.  I nearly fell on the floor laughing.  I am digging in potting soil all day long.  My hands are dirty.  So very dirty.  I told her I had inherited my grandmother's hands (mine are identical to my grandmother's and I even hold them the same way she always did. In photos that I have, it is strange to see because it is so familiar) and her good skin.  I told the customer that they were just 65 year old hands and I didn't do anything but wash them with soap and try to scrub the dirt off with a nail brush.  I have to say, I spent the rest of the day looking at my hands and wondering.