November 16, 2015 - Off we go all the same

The tires had just hit the runway after a two leg flight, and I was eager to get upright and out of this winged contraption. We had been up since 4 that morning and were in need some cajun grub and maybe a nap to re-set ourselves. Four a.m and I don't mix very well and it was starting to show. I looked out the window to my right to see the visions of Louisiana fill the small oval glass. It was crazy to think it had been 10 years since all of this was flooded in Katrina's wrath. I could almost see the swells of water on the runway in my imagination. Those images that filled the television screen 10 years earlier never really leave your mind. They left me impacted, and now I was going to see the outcome of the city coming back full force. "Welcome to New Orleans where the local time is 10:17. The use of cell phones is now permitted. Thank you for choosing us for your travel needs." I reached down into my bag to turn on my phone to adjust the time and immediately noticed I had 3 missed calls. What in the world? I get 3 calls in a month! Two second later, while trying to decipher who was calling and when they came through, the phone rang again in my hand.

"Hello?" 

"Hey Sally, this is A calling from ____(the vet office). I've been trying to reach you. Did you get my voice messages?" 


It suddenly registered to me that the vet office is closed on Sundays and A had no reason to be in the office. Immediately, my stomach did the 180 roll inside my abdomen and I braced myself for what I was about to hear. I glanced over at Ron next to me and saw he was acutely tuned into to me next to him as salty water was accumulating on the rim of my lower eye lid.

"Oh no, A, it is Sunday and you are not supposed to be in the office today. Something is wrong isn't it?" 

"The tech came in the office this morning to feed Oliver and found him unresponsive. He was freezing cold, and not reacting to voice or touch. The tech called me, and I flew into the office to see what was going on. When I arrived, Oliver was in a coma-like state. His body temperature was 90 (should be 101), and it was obvious he had had seizures through the night as there was urine and feces all over his cage. I checked his blood sugar and it was so low that it wasn't detectable (<20). I am not sure he is going to survive. I have started warming up his body to see if I can get a response from him, but I worry he may have significant organ damage and brain damage from the seizures. He very easily could be blind as well. I am in the process of warming him and giving him dextrose to get his blood glucose up. I will call you back in a a little bit when I know more. We love Oliver and are doing our best here." (Only slightly paraphrased as I try to recall exact words from last week.)


There I was sitting in 20F on a now empty plane with the phone in my lap, tears streaming down my face, and a stewardess standing above us asking us if we needed help. All I could do was grab my bag from the overhead, grab Ron's hand and head out to the ramp leading from plane to terminal. What was going on? Our sweet, sweet, Oliver who seemed perfectly fine when we dropped him off the day before was now lying frigid cold and unresponsive in a steel boarding cage back in North Carolina. And suddenly the last place I wanted to be was where I was at that very moment. Ron and I just couldn't process what was happening. We were supposed to be starting our week-long annual vacation with Ron's family after a very stressful two weeks trying get the house on the market. There wasn't a thing we could do but put Oliver into God's hands and wait to see what turned out. Meanwhile, Ron and I were preparing ourselves to have to make that awful decision of letting him go, all while 3 states away.

Over the next 24 hours we learned that Oliver's diabetes had suddenly gone into remission and the daily insulin shots he had been receiving was sending his blood sugar to undetectable lows. His body responded with going into a protective frigid state, but it was too much for him and he had seizures and brain swelling in response to blood levels. Dr. A spent the first 12 hours warming Oliver's body up so she could see what permanent damaged had occurred to his organs. She also gave him IV fluids to get his blood sugar back up. And she watched and waited. A few hours in he started to lift his head and look at her, but not much else.

The phone rang again late that night: "Sally, I don't know what to say, We transferred Oliver to an emergency vet office where they had more support staff on the weekends. (I'm picturing our sweet Oliver getting his first "pet ambulance" ride and not even being able to enjoy it.) They gave him a dose of mannitol to reduce the swelling in his brain because he was having some twitching movements that we often see with brain swelling. You are not going to believe it. Immediately, he (the cat with 36 lives) started playing with a toy in his boarding cage. He got up started batting it around and then found his food bowl where he has been standing eating like a little piggy ever since. We are going to watch him closely for the next 48 hours in the ICU, but Oliver did what Oliver does and pulled through. It's a miracle really. We can't believe it!"

What?!?! Ron and I didn't even know what to say! We just sort of stared at each other with tears in our eyes for this cat we have pulled through urinary stones, lymphoma, multiple eye and ear infections, and now steroid induced diabetes after his lymphoma went into remission. We were speechless and exhausted and fell into bed with looks of "what just happened?" plastered on our faces.

This was turning out to be such an emotional roller coaster week. A miracle with Oliver using his 36th life, us paralyzed in another state not able to do a thing, and now I bring to you the emotional miracle of our house. Ok, so while Oliver was dying, reviving himself, and then thriving back to 100% normalcy (I don't know why this surprises me because it is like the 3rd time he has tried to die on us), our contractor was finishing up some final tasks on our house so we could get it on the market. We got a call from him on Tuesday evening (Oliver crashed on Sunday, revived on Monday, and now was thriving on Tuesday) that despite God sending a flooding rain the last 2 days, he had finished the painting job and the project was officially done and ready to be listed. He called our realtor and she went over to the house on Wednesday morning to put the sign in the yard for us. Within an hour, I had 3 requests for showings that same day. By the end of the day we had a verbal offer. Thursday morning we received the written offer. Our house had sold in 24 hours all while we were on vacation.

Now here is where God comes into play:
  • The house sold while we were on vacation 24 hours after listing. 
  • The house sold for the price I had mentally listed in my head. 
  • The house sold to a couple who is downsizing just like Ron and I. 
  • The house sold without me having to be there keeping the house clean for showings. We virtually would have never known the house went on the market except for a sign being in the yard! 
  • The couple requested a Christmas week closing. They allowed us to push back to January 5th so we could enjoy Christmas week.
Now here is where I need God to get on board. We have no where to live. January 5th is like 45 days away. I may or may not be a little stressed about this minor detail. But I want to buy a house in faith and not a house out of fear. So I am trusting God to come through with a little house gem chosen perfectly for Ron and I and in his timing (which I hope to be aligned with our closing date. I will boldly ask for that). He has totally stepped up to the plate in the selling of our house, so I can only imagine he will follow through in providing the perfect purchase for us with His goals in mind. This story has God written all over it. And I am trying to keep Sally-induced-turmoil out of the picture. I'm the very first person to mess up a good God story, so I am keeping my arms duct taped to my side and my mouth taped as well so He can do his thing. You all know I am working hard to be a story collector and I have good faith this one will be collection worthy when all is said and done. Prayers for it as we go as the thoughts of packing up a house with nowhere to go as of yet can be a little mind boggling. I haven't packed a single box and I guess I'd be smart to start that process. But off we go all the same. A little less house, a little more home!

On a mastectomy related note: I have my 3 month follow-up appointment (boob show and tell) this week with Lead Plastic Surgeon. I was in New Orleans last week. I told Ron it would only be fitting for me to practice show and tell for some Mardi Gras beads. He wasn't amused. No worries, it didn't happen, but how can I not at least banter with Ron about it while in New Orleans? I did at least see him crack a smile. Or maybe he was just thinking about Oliver and him surviving his 36th life and the house selling the next day.


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