(no subject)
May. 4th, 2006 03:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Goddamn fucking veterinarian. (Skip about halfway down if you don't want to be frustrated.)
She tried to run through a script with me, explaining Emma's potassium level in detail and all the new bloodwork and urinalysis and stool analysis she wants to do because her potassium is just slightly below the normal range and...
TELL ME ABOUT BEAR.
Let's finish up with Emma first, she oozes.
NO, EMMA IS NOT IN CRISIS. WE WILL TALK ABOUT HER NEXT WEEK. I'VE BEEN FRANTIC ABOUT BEAR FOR DAYS. NOW TELL ME WHAT THE SPECIALIST SAID ABOUT HIS LIVER.
Well, let's start at the beginning. It's very good that you brought him in when you did because...
I KNOW ALL THIS. I KNOW YOU SENT HIS ULTRASOUNDS OUT TO A SPECIALIST BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU SAW ON HIS LIVER, BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW WHETHER IT'S SCAR TISSUE FROM PRIOR LIVER DAMAGE OR IF IT'S CANCER. NOW TELL ME WHAT THEY SAID.
I cannot believe this woman insisted on continuing to stick to her script. We were ten minutes into the conversation before she finally got to the meat of it. I want to kill her bony, patronizing ass. She tried to suck up after I called her on her condescension, by telling me that she'd told somebody else in the office about the wonderful people she'd met over the weekend and their wonderful kitties, and...[barf]. I can't believe she expected that transparent vanity appeal to be an effective mollification tactic.
So the ultrasounds of his liver are...(wait for it)...inconclusive, which could mean:
a) scar tissue from prior liver damage, which is fine (possible)
b) fast-growing, discrete tumor, which might be operable (slim chance)
c) what is essentially metastatic cancer, which is terminal, untreatable, and unpredictable in terms of timing (possible)
She does not want to remove the bladder stones right now. She wants us to take Bear to a specialist for a needle biopsy under MRI, which will cost us a fucking MINT, and we're already $1500 in, and he's still had no treatment, and we're out of the expensive painkillers that are costing us $50 a day, and he's still not had the surgery he needs.
She insists that there's a possibility that the least likely option for his liver will make healing harder after his bladder surgery and for that reason we should get a third mortgage and get the specialist's tests first.
I give up. I have no fucking idea what to do anymore. I just want to cry and cuddle my kitty and use a Krazy Straw to suck out those bladder stones myself at this point.
She tried to run through a script with me, explaining Emma's potassium level in detail and all the new bloodwork and urinalysis and stool analysis she wants to do because her potassium is just slightly below the normal range and...
TELL ME ABOUT BEAR.
Let's finish up with Emma first, she oozes.
NO, EMMA IS NOT IN CRISIS. WE WILL TALK ABOUT HER NEXT WEEK. I'VE BEEN FRANTIC ABOUT BEAR FOR DAYS. NOW TELL ME WHAT THE SPECIALIST SAID ABOUT HIS LIVER.
Well, let's start at the beginning. It's very good that you brought him in when you did because...
I KNOW ALL THIS. I KNOW YOU SENT HIS ULTRASOUNDS OUT TO A SPECIALIST BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU SAW ON HIS LIVER, BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW WHETHER IT'S SCAR TISSUE FROM PRIOR LIVER DAMAGE OR IF IT'S CANCER. NOW TELL ME WHAT THEY SAID.
I cannot believe this woman insisted on continuing to stick to her script. We were ten minutes into the conversation before she finally got to the meat of it. I want to kill her bony, patronizing ass. She tried to suck up after I called her on her condescension, by telling me that she'd told somebody else in the office about the wonderful people she'd met over the weekend and their wonderful kitties, and...[barf]. I can't believe she expected that transparent vanity appeal to be an effective mollification tactic.
So the ultrasounds of his liver are...(wait for it)...inconclusive, which could mean:
a) scar tissue from prior liver damage, which is fine (possible)
b) fast-growing, discrete tumor, which might be operable (slim chance)
c) what is essentially metastatic cancer, which is terminal, untreatable, and unpredictable in terms of timing (possible)
She does not want to remove the bladder stones right now. She wants us to take Bear to a specialist for a needle biopsy under MRI, which will cost us a fucking MINT, and we're already $1500 in, and he's still had no treatment, and we're out of the expensive painkillers that are costing us $50 a day, and he's still not had the surgery he needs.
She insists that there's a possibility that the least likely option for his liver will make healing harder after his bladder surgery and for that reason we should get a third mortgage and get the specialist's tests first.
I give up. I have no fucking idea what to do anymore. I just want to cry and cuddle my kitty and use a Krazy Straw to suck out those bladder stones myself at this point.