The important things
5 years, 8 months ago, in the early afternoon
Spain the Cat went to the vet today, not out of any terror for her life or anything, but because she’d been acting very uncomfortable and scratchy ever since I got back from Kentucky. I caught her chewing at a couple of skin-tag-thingies (which we already knew about), and they seemed to have grown; so off to ye old doc’s office she went as a precautionary measure.
I tweeted about this, and people had questions, so here’s the rundown. For starters, she has fleas. And for finishers, her skin-tag-thingies have become a tiny bit suspicious, so we opted to get them aspirated for testing. They’re probably fine, but better safe than sorry — and better to find out in case of problems while those problems are still small, that’s what I say. (We’ll have Spainy’s skin test results either tonight or Wednesday.)
Three hundred bucks later (*ouch*) we’re home with some Frontline and some hardcore mega-killah flea spray. She was given a special flea-killin’ pill before we left the office, but it only works for about 24 hours so I have to log off and start washing every damn bit of fabric in the entire apartment. And then I’ll be spraying the ever-living hell out of everything that won’t fit in the washer/dryer. This place is going to smell like ass, but by sundown I fully expect it to be 100% flea-free. Goddammit.
Edit: The vet called with Spainy’s results — they were inconclusive, but mostly good. She’s about 95% sure that everything is normal, but a little blood contamination and a near-iffy set of cells keeps her from giving the total all-clear. The plan is to keep an eye on the suspicious nodule and address it again at the kitty’s annual checkup in a few months, perhaps for biopsy (though sooner of course if it starts to go weird on us). Anyway, there you go.