Miss Fuzzums, our little, four-year-old, long-haired, grey, female cat had a bad pulmonary attack, (she's never been well, was a rejected runt who has always had respiratory/sinus problems), but I was able to give her mouth to mouth resuscitation and bring her back. She was in severe shock when I got to her, her pupils were fixed and dilated, she was gasping for breath and she was cold. I was able to get her lungs open and get some air into her and then rubbed her and rubber her to warm her up. I was sitting here in my tee-shirt without a bra, without underwear but I just grabbed her and ran for the car. I drove with one hand and used the other to cradle her, risking accidents by looking away from the road in order to blow into her mouth every few seconds.
I ran into the hospital in my dirty, short, sleep shirt, with my swollen eyes and my crazy hair, and with my naked butt hanging out, and handed her off to the vet tech. Then I followed her back to the operating room and kept breathing for her while they tried to get a catheter into her tiny veins. She was still shocky but better. I'm probably in denial here thinking there's a chance that she might make it. They put her on oxygen, and we'll see...sadness. Think healing thoughts for Miss Fuzzums, please?
I believe that things happen in threes so I'm waiting for the third shoe to fall, shit...
Sorry for all the drama lately, I know it'll all work out. I have a lot of faith that holds my hand through the hard times and always gets me through, no worries : )