“The Doctor Will Speak with you Now…”

This is one phone call you do not want to receive shortly after leaving your cat at the vet for a teeth cleaning:

“…we haven’t started the procedure yet, but the vet would like to speak with you about Gizmo’s blood work.”

My heart falls to the floor. I remain on hold for what seems like forever. In actuality, it was more like a minute.

I dropped Gizmo off at the clinic for a lion cut and teeth cleaning at 7:30 this morning. To begin with, I’m always nervous about her going under anethesia. (So is she. She was shaking when I left her.)

A few hours later, I’m speaking with the vet via phone, trying to rapidly incorporate foreign words like nutrofills and blast-o-loba-fills—I’m improvising here—into my medically challenged vocabulary.

In layman’s terms, her white blood cell count is low. Associated with bone marrow, the function of these cells is to fight off infection. It may explain her history of bladder infections and peeing outside the litter box, I’m told

But, what does it mean?

A genetic defect, perhaps. It’s too early to tell.

“I don’t really have anything to hang my hat on,” says the vet.

He sent her blood work out to an independent lab for further analysis, and the results should be back tomorrow. That’s a very long time.

In the meantime, he’s doing some more research to see if it’s a condition to which the Persians breed is predisposed. Everything is so ambiguous. And not for lack of words—long words, even—unexplained.

There could be reasons for Gizmo peeing in the bathtub I hadn’t dare consider before. Invisible forces beyond behavioral or psychological issues. Factors that are quite arguably the least preferable: physical.

Update: The vet’s office called again. Gizmo is coming out of the anethesia and doing well. After a few hours of observation, she’ll be ready to be picked up at 4:30 p.m.. That’s also, a very long time away.