Had to make a choice.  Had to choose whether I was going to continue to feel put upon, downtrodden, at risk, depressed, frightened and worried or whether I would tackle 'life' head on with confidence.  It's been a tough decision with a few bouts of tears as it's not just about Richard or finances.  We now have a sick cat in the mix.  Renal disease, no cure.  Renal disease along with her lifelong battle against crystals in bladder (and now possibly kidneys?).  So am having a struggle with the worry aspect of my choice as she's only 10, is adorable, loving and deserves to have a much longer happy life.

Still.  As soon as I squarely faced facts and made what decisions I could, it did become easier.  Spent $1000 in two days with no improvement.  Went in again today sans Natalia ... what other helpful information would terrifying her with another trip to vets get?  Had the 'cat' vet.  She listened to me.  I kept saying Fortekor and the other two vets said, no, her  protein levels didn't warrant it.  This vet said, yes, even though it's not what is usually done, it might held and won't hurt.

She didn't try and talk me into more tests.  She spelled out choices, actually spoke the unpalatable truth and said,  as an option, (nasogastro tube) for instance, isn't something she'd do with her own cat  - and gave clear guidelines of what could be done within financial and humane limits.  And if the things we're trying don't work I will have Natalia euthanized.  Hard heartbreaking decision - but long suffering with tests and  interventions (weekly IV fluids for example or fluids with morphine for days until possible kidney stone passes.... until the next one comes along -- that sort of business, ditto surgery for same, until next stone?)  No.  

Once I hardened up and stopped being such a whiny 'it's not fair' wuss, things lined up - like getting the cat vet, like getting an expensive medication for free because the med had been returned after 'Misty' had passed away - thank you Misty.  

Should qualify re cat vet.  The other vets are fine.  They're caring, conscientious, thorough, motivated - but a cat vet just knows.  

On Tuesday I see an osteopath.  Yay.  If treatment doesn't help I'm going to have myself euthanized...kidding.  Put off seeing anyone about 'this' for years.  Now it's acute and I shuffle around hanging onto things until 'it' eases.  When I'm warmed up I walk normally.  Walked from Pottsville to Hastings Point on a glorious day yesterday.  The sea was royal blue, clear and glassy save for the combers breaking froth on the beach.  Mikaela thought she was in heaven and ran and ran and ran.  And I walked just fine for two hours.  Hard to believe that when I stand up in the next half hour I will hardly be able to walk.  There's something going on with the ligaments joining my leg to my groin - which is why I didn't want to see anyone about it - such an awkward place to be examined.  But now the price for not getting it looked at is too high as it I am also having trouble sleeping.  

Applied to volunteer at the local pound, cat section, for Jobseeker.  It's a no kill pound.  Probably a few thousand other applicants but it doesn't hurt to try.  There are some gorgeous looking cats, a smoke tabby and a bengal but no Siamese.  Some of have been there a long time.  Would be nice to try and encourage trust in the timid ones.  But we'll see.  Fingers crossed.