I've always felt like doctors were a bit of a racket. My kid sister noticed her husband was always thirsty and thought he must have diabetes. He did. One of my brothers could suck down two cans of club soda with a straw in about 10 seconds flat. Guess what? He had diabetes. You didn't need a doctor to figure any of this out. Considering the way I feel about medical doctors, you can only imagine how I feel about doctors of veterinarian medicine.
So when my baby, Troy, developed an abnormal thirst over the past six months, going to the vet was the last thing I wanted to do. You see, we had a heat wave this summer in NYC, so at first I just thought it was taking its toll on the little critter. But when the fall rolled around and his thirst didn't dissipate, I knew that diabetes was the cause.
For a paltry $350, the vet confirmed my diagnosis. He's got sugar (as the old-timers say). Now I'm supposed to give Troy insulin shots twice a day and, for the time being, also check his sugar level (via a urine test) twice a day. This I gotta see. The vet suggested I put plastic wrap over Troy's box to try to capture some urine before it gets into the litter. Oh, right. The mere sight of any kind of plastic bag or wrapper sends Troy flying into the other room with his tail double its usual size. This is not going to be pretty.
Nobody loves their pet more than I love my Troy (he even watches tennis with me, above), but I'm not sure I would expend that much effort to keep myself alive. Is this for real? Would love to hear from others in this situation to hear if this is as awful as it sounds.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Posted by Kenneth M. Walsh at 5:50 PM