Tiptoe on the Razor's Edge

Bob got sick this morning.

At first I hoped it was a hairball, but after his vomiting continued for an hour, I knew he was having a relapse. It was a big struggle to give him his meds since I was still being effected by the Cyclobenzaprine I took the night before. My hip was killing me, so I went for the big pain killer, instead of the good old handful of Advil. This stuff leaves me feeling like I have no bones, even though I'd taken the pill before I went to bed, here it was 9AM the next day and I was still under it's spell.

With zombie-like clumsiness, I attempted to overcome the feeling of rubbery arms and dislocated fingers, so I could stuff a 1/4 of a Pepcid and a 1/4 of Reglan into Bob. I was a miserable failure, even though it was the tiniest of pills I had to give him.

Try as I might, I couldn't do it. I finally got Sam to shove the pills into Bob, who struggled against both our attempts to pill him. Normally, I can pill Bob easily, regardless if I'm drugged at the time. This morning, he was a little maniac.

I went back to bed, to sleep off the meds—three times. No sooner than I started to fall back to sleep, I'd hear the familiar pumping-barf sound coming from downstairs. So I'd get up and trip down the stairs to check on Bob. He kept vomiting over the period of two hours, until all that was left was some foam from the antacid.

As angry as I was for being forced to get out of bed when I really needed sleep, my gut sank with despair.

"Is Bob going to have another BIG relapse?"

I began in envision having to take Bob back to Dr. Larry's for an IV and I flashed back on the nightmare of last year; not sleeping much for weeks while we tried to get Bob stable.

I don't feel well when my cats are sick. It truly eats at me and I don't feel a sense of peace in my heart or home until everyone is doing well.

It's 10:30pm and I did give Bob a small bit of food 5 hours ago. So far he's kept it down, but I think I'll skip feeding any of the cats more food tonight. They're all pacing anxiously and jump up every time I get out of my chair and go anywhere near where I keep their food, but their bellies are big enough to hold them over until the morning. By then I will know if Bob has started another decent down hill.

More to come...