The kittens were home three days when Thor starts sneezing and has drainage from his eyes. I not so quietly go into a schizoid type phase where I know this isn't what Conan had, but still it's the same damn pattern. Day three.
I'm glad this time my regular vet is available. With Conan, he was out of town and the substitute vet poo-poohed my concerns. Chad knows me. He knows I have a background in neonatology, which doesn't transfer 100%, but it's surprising how much baby humans and baby kittens are alike. Mostly he likes that when he says things like penicillinase, I understand him.
So the kittens take the forty mile round trip to the vet. They are weighed. Loki is 2 pounds, Thor 1.8 pounds. They are ooohed and ahhed over by the staff. (They are damn cute kittens.) Thor has a cold. And a heart murmer. Barely a Grade One, Chad tells me. Heart murmers in cats are graded just like in humans. One is the least worrisome, just a sort of "okay, it's there, we'll keep it in mind". I'm given pink antibiotics for both of them since Thor is sure to share it with his brother. Which either the medicine works for Loki or he never gets it, because he never showed a single sign.
The next two days, I'm noticing every little difference in Thor's behavior. He doesn't eat as much as Loki, he doesn't play as long as Loki. Jason reels off his standard, "He is eating, drinking, pooping, peeing and playing. He is fine."
I know he is fine. But that little voice in my head is convinced I'm missing something and this kitten will die also. I spend much of the week saying, "I know I'm crazy, but..."
On Friday, Thor is sounding bad. He is snuffling and wheezing through his nose. When I'm not on the phone with the vet's office. "I don't think the medicine is working." "Is there anyway to suction out his nose?" "Is it okay if he breathes through his mouth when he is sleeping?"
Finally, they give me an appointment for Saturday morning, just to shut me up.
I dig out the cool air humidifier and Thor and I sit in the tiny bathroom in the master bedroom, inhaling the steam. He loves it and tries to catch the clouds. He also starts sneezing again, clearing up a good bit of his stuffiness.
I work night shift on the weekends, so Jason took the kittens for their Saturday morning appointment. When I woke up that afternoon, his report of "everyone was laughing at Thor because he sounded like a snotty two year old." wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear.
But he survived. So did I. And it gave the staff at the vet's office an idea of things to come with me and the kittens.