the CAT's Scan

There are so many memories every single day.  Most of them bring buckets of tears followed by laughter.  I didn’t think it was possible to cry as much as I do and still survive.  Today I was asking Emilie if she thought the cat (our oldest 12 year old) was acting funny.  His name is Little Head.  Do you want to know how he got that name?  Well, I will tell you.  A little orange and white kitten came to our house for Emilie’s birthday one year.  She couldn’t decide on a name so we called him “kitty” for about 3 or 4 months.  One day, Mark said “Your cat is getting fat Emilie.”  And she said “he’s not fat, he just has a little head.”  And so the name stuck.  Today, as I am looking at this old bedraggled cat that has been in fights, an incubator for parasites, a mouser, and the most affectionate and purring indoor/outdoor cat a person could ever ask for, I remembered a story that started the laughing and crying machine up again.

About 6 years ago, I was walking down the hallway and I noticed the cat was having some sort of seizure.  He was violently thrashing his head back and forth and unable to walk.  I screamed for Mark and he said it didn’t look good.  I called the vet who happened to be out of town so we were sent to Cornell Animal Hospital right away.  I put Little Head in the carrier and was absolutely sobbing on the way out the door.  I remember saying these exact words loud enough for Mark to hear “everything I love gets taken away from me.”  Something was going on at the time (now there’s a surprise) that was pretty serious and I had been distraught all day over that news…and then this!

After arriving by myself at Cornell and sitting through the long process of waiting to find out what was wrong with our cat, the doctor and tech came in and said that they needed to perform a CAT scan (really!! They actually said that!) on my cat to find out if he had a brain tumor or a parasitic infection.  I asked how much it would be and they said $2500.  I told them that I couldn’t afford $2500 for my cat and that I would have to talk to my husband.  They picked up a phone in the little tiny room and suggested that I call him right now!  So, awkwardly, while the two of them stood in the room and listened, I told Mark what they said.  He was quiet for a very, very long time on the other end of the phone and he finally said “ok.”  I hung up in shock and told the Veterinarian that if they could just keep the cat overnight for observation, I would call in the morning and let them know our decision.  They agreed to try some sort of antibiotic regiment that might also work and then gave me a phone number to call through the night.  I walked out to the car with the empty pet carrier and went straight for the cell phone.  I picked it up and dialed Mark’s number and when he said “hello there,” I started to blurt out at the top of my lungs “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVING MIND TO AGREE TO SPEND $2500 ON A CAT??”  And then I proceeded to ask where we were supposed to get that kind of money and that the cat is just staying overnight without the scan and on and on and on…blah, blah, blah.  Finally, after all of my spewing, Mark calmly said “when you left the house, you said everything you love gets taken away, and I didn’t want to put a price on saving something you love.”  He said “what was the right answer in this situation?”

All of a sudden, I realized that Mark didn’t want to spend the money either, but he loved me enough to sacrifice every dime he had to make me happy.   The cat actually recovered without the scan and has some neurological symptoms, but hey, he lives here and we can handle that.  What I learned that day was you can’t put a price on love, but you can put a price on a vet bill!  I miss you tremendously Mark Searle…