two peas in a pod


Lucy has been pretty pukey lately. Which is trouble for our white carpet (which I am quickly learning was a monumental mistake), and ticks off Craig, who usually cleans up the mess. I just feel sorry for her- mostly because I can relate. As everyone who reads this knows, I have the worst stomach in the world. Not only does it reject dairy, but most days it feels like I have consumed a gallon of battery acid. I am not to eat spicy foods, acidic foods, dairy foods, and sugary foods- which pretty much leaves saltines and chicken broth. But about two years ago it was much, much worse. I felt like what I imagine Lucy was feeling- knife sharp pain to the abdomen and constant nausea/pukiness.

The reason I bring this up is I took Lucy to the vet today. And afterwards, I was thinking that I really wish humans could go to vets.

Lucy’s story: One week of puking equals trip to vet…called ahead one day and got her right in, waited in waiting room for five minutes and saw doctor, who sticks probe up cats bottom and takes stool sample. Ten minutes later lab testing is complete, and diagnoses of stomach irritating bacterial infection is made, treatment is given, medicine procured, $80 of payment rendered and we are on our way. Total time spent: 45 minutes. And Lucy is on her way to feeling like a kitten again.

My story: Two years of intense stomach pain. Seven doctors. Two specialists. Average waiting room time: One hour. Number of unneeded prescriptions filled: five. Trips to the E.R.: three. Tests endured: barium stomach xray, endoscopy, lower GI (x2), ultrasound, CT scan, multiple blood and urine samples. Final diagnoses made by a family doctor two years later by a SIMPLE $10 BLOOD TEST: heliobactor pylori- a stomach irritating bacterial infection. (Of course by this time it had eroded my stomach away to nothing and caused multiple ulcers and lots of other nastiness but I’m not bitter, really.) Total cost: I don’t even want to think about it. Total time spent: I don’t want to think about it.

So how is it that my cat and I had identical medical inflictions, and she is cured for 80 bucks and 45 minutes, and I am “cured” for the cost of my entire college education and two years of my life?? After watching Lucy take her antibiotics today, I think I know the answer- A cat wouldn’t put up with that crap.


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