(no subject)

it's the same thing, happening again, only even faster. whistle's blood pressure bottomed out last night; her blood isn't clotting. they're going to do a plasma transfusion, but they want me to come in so i can see her beforehand in case she goes during the procedure.

the deja vu of this situation is absolutely heartwrenching. because they're saying to me "we're going to try this, we're going to try that," and in my core i know it's probably not going to save her. i'm going to lose them both.

(no subject)

hold the phone. don't count my little smooshface out yet.

i just went to see her. she was curled up on the corner of the cage, shaved every which way and distinctly yellow. but then i started petting her. she heard my voice and looked up, and suddenly there she was, in all her babyhead glory. she was rolling around on her back, begging to be petted, rubbing herslf against everything she could. seeing me woke her up. she saw she hadn't been abandoned. she was fully herself, as opposed to fidget, who'd been like mcmurphy at the end of cuckoo's nest from the second i left him there. whistle is still whistle. and i think she's willing to fight with the strength fidget just couldn't muster.

we're going back there tonight to be there when she wakes up after her plasma transfusion. if we can just get the plasma to take and her blood to begin clotting again, i think she has a real shot.