A very, very grueling day.

Among the things that happened was that, for whatever reason, I found myself thinking about my dad on the way to work, ultimately crying because in spite of his frequent awfulness, I know he loved me as much as he was able to love anyone. I never saw him after I moved, and I didn't even see him when he was in the hospital, dying--I just didn't know he was really that sick. He "cried wolf" so many times (or at least it seems he exaggerated about his aches, pains and maladies), that when he really did get sick, I suppose it just seemed like another call for attention.

If I'd have known how bad things were, I would have gone to see him. I wish we could have talked, at least one last time. I wish he were still alive and managing to find some kind of happiness and serenity that seemed to evade him all of his life. Whether or not it was the product of his own selfish behavior, I still wish he could have known inner peace....and I wish we could have talked. It hurts to think that it's too late now. I can never talk to him again, never tell him that I forgive him for his faults or that in spite of everything, I did love him.

I took Yuki to work with me today, since the evening class is studying cardiology, and Yuki has had a heart murmur, so she would be a good subject to study. In addition to the EKG, Yuki also got shaved and poked by novice students for blood draws (and she wasn't too pleased about that, but Yuki is not a mean cat--she meowed a few times in protest, but that's as bad as she gets). Each time we put her though another ordeal, she was exhausted when it was over: panting, trembling, and with a distressed look on her face. I thought she was panting because she'd gotten overheated from struggling. After we got a look at Yuki's heart, I realized it was probably due more to cardiac insufficiency than being too warm.

I was unaware that Dr. Settles would have the ultrasound cart, which provided a lot of information (and bad news) that I hadn't anticipated. I was shocked to learn how ill Yuki is (and has been for awhile), and how much damage her heart has sustained. The doppler unit magnifies every heart sound and I could tell just by listening that there was something terribly wrong. Instead of a nice, clean, regular whooshing sound, I could hear turbulence and an irregular heartbeat. Her left atrium, which should have been no larger than 13mm, was 18 mm. The muscle of the left ventricle was thickened, and the valves themselves were rather anomolous-looking, and it was quite visible how the blood was splashing back into the atria, rather than making a clean trip through the ventricle, and out to the pulmonary system. The net result was that we were all observing a heart that was working very hard but wasn't able to carry out its intended function. I realized then how very sick Yuki has been.

Dr. Settles explained that Yuki needs to be on medications right away. Whether or not they will extend her life expectancy is unknown, but at least she'll feel better.

I remained calm and cheerful--after all, I was supposed to be the instructor: brave, knowledgable, and wise, so I had to play it very cool, and managed to keep my feelings under wraps, at least until the drive home, when I felt dreadfully sad that I hadn't done something sooner. Poor Yuki has probably been feeling like crap for quite awhile now. I should have had her evaluated years ago. The meds should help to prevent blood clots from the valvular backflow and to decrease the workload to her poor, tired heart. Eventually she may need something to regulate her heart rhythm.

Now I know why she'd get "that look" when she tired quickly after playing. Poor thing.

I forgot to bring my cell phone to work today and called Duane to tell him this. He told me to honk a couple times when I got to the garage so he could help me carry the heavy things upstairs. When I got home, I did just this and waited, but no Duane appeared. Tired, hungry and emotionally drained, I just wanted to get upstairs and be done with it. Finally, I lugged the stuff up myself, and found Duane sitting at his computer, wearing headphones. It would have been amusing if the day hadn't been so taxing.

As I put things away, I informed Duane about Yuki's woeful situation.

I knew Yuki had to be famished and thirsty, so I went in to the kitchen and heard the cats' water fountain making that "running on empty" racket and refilled it. The food dishes were empty as well, so I poured kibbles into them and as I did so, the plastic dispenser popped open and food poured everywhere. Duane came into the kitchen to help, but I was in sensory/emotional overload and said, "please, just let me clean it up", since there's only one dustpan and brush, and it was my mess. As I swept up the food (which was all over the kitchen), I eventually broke down and began to cry--not bawling, just that quiet, exhausted kind of crying I do sometimes.

Time to attempt to get some sleep.