Complex Numbers

Cat Astrophe

No link today, just a rant.

I have a calico cat, Zoe (named after an ancient Doctor Who companion, not Zoe Saldana) who just turned 11. A while back, she got diagnosed with a thyroid issue, for which the vet prescribed medicine to be smeared inside her ear twice a day, 5 mg per dose. It's like a pen with a twisty clicky thing on the bottom that dispenses the correct dose. I can never remember the name of the medicine, but it starts with "meth," which has nothing to do with methamphetamine except the one CH₃ group I assume is in both. But I digress.

As you might imagine, Zoe isn't very pleased with having me hold her down and stick something inside her very sensitive ears. Still, it's more reliable than the alternative, which is in pill form. Ever try to pill a cat? There are whole comedy routines about it. This is definitely the lesser of two ear-vils.

Everything was fine for a few months, and then they did a blood test and, behold, her whatever-numbers were still too high, so the vet changed the prescription: 5mg twice a day plus one half-dose of 2.5mg. So, now, two separate pens are necessary, and I have to label them with permanent marker that wears off after three days.

This routine doesn't offend only the cat, but also my sense of symmetry, as it means I have to dose her twice in the morning and once in the evening. Or vice-versa; doesn't really matter; just needs to have some consistency. Still, I'm OCD enough that this bugs me. Plus, it's a pain in the ass for whoever takes care of her whenever I fuck off to some distant land.

So, two weeks ago, at their request, I took her in for a blood test (catching the cat and stuffing her into a carrier is another formidable task; she senses when a vet visit is coming up and gets creative in finding hiding spots). A week later, they call me to say that their magic numbers were fine with this higher dose, and I informed them that I was nearly out of meds. They said they'd call in new prescriptions but it would take a few days. Fine, I still had a few days left.

Last week goes by, nothing from pharmacy. I call them. "We never got a prescription from the vet."

Great. At this point, the vet's closed, so I have to wait until Monday.

Now, I should note that I've been going to this vet's office for two decades. They've been pretty reliable. I trusted them with end-of-life care for two of my previous cats (another got very sick on a weekend and had to be euthanized at an emergency vet). But this time, they dropped the ball of yarn. Monday: "We'll need her to come in for blood work."

"Um, she got the blood work two weeks ago."

"Let me call you back."

So I got a call back, not from the receptionist, but the actual vet, who usually has Mondays off. He spent the next 10 minutes reiterating the same discussion we'd had the prior week: to continue with the two 5mg doses plus one 2.5mg dose. Twitch.

I said, "Question about that. That's 12.5mg daily." (In case you've ever said, "When in my life will I ever need to know math?" that's your answer.)

The vet seemed surprised that I wasn't innumerate. "Yes, that's right."

"And we're getting this filled at the compounding pharmacy, so would it be possible to get one pen with a 6mg dose, to use twice a day, instead of the one 5 twice a day plus the one 2.5 once a day?"

(As an aside, yes, that means 12mg daily instead of 12.5 mg, but these things really aren't that precise, anyway.)

He paused. "I didn't think of that," he said.

Facepalm.

"We usually think in terms of pills, and the pills come in 5 or 10 milligrams," he continued.

And I'm thinking the pills have those little score marks for breaking in half to provide the 2.5mg dose, but whatever; it's not like I'd be able to force pills down this cat's gullet.

So that was Monday, and the pens were ominously close to empty. I get a call from the pharmacy later. "We won't be able to fill this until Thursday." (That would be tomorrow, now.)

No way will the current pens last until then. Zoe's just going to have to go with a smaller dose, I was thinking. And watch the vet blame me for not following through.

Well, yesterday, Tuesday, just before the pharmacy closed, I get the text from them that the meds are ready. Okay, great, there's probably exactly one more dose left (it's hard to tell with these things), so she got that one last night.

When I'm done posting this, I'm going to head over there (it's not far from me) and get the new prescription. It's fortunate that they were able to fill it earlier than expected, but, ever the pessimist, I fully expect the dose to be wrong.

If so, well, the vet's office is a few short, angry stomps from the pharmacy. And there's a microbrewery in between. And two more right across the street. You know, just in case.

I still get to go out there tomorrow, too. My other cat, the void named Robin, needs her annual shots. Now I gotta wonder how they'll manage to screw that up.