May 11, 2013
Its been a year since my cat died. I was much too shocked and upset about her death to write about her misdiagnosis and wrong treatment at Cessna Clinic, Bangalore. But I think, its about time since someone returned the favor to them.
The day it happened...
My cat was fine till the day before and had eaten her dinner. Lately she was feeling a little depressed since we had brought in a younger cat as a favor to a friend of ours, the younger cat's owner, who was leaving the country. Although our cat was still playful ( and sweet and clingy) with us and our dogs, she hadn't taken to this younger cat too well. But after about a month of him also being there and not much to suggest that our older cat was too depressed to eat or play, we went about our normal routine.
Then suddenly, the day she died, our cat started behaving very oddly. She stayed outside for sometime in the morning while we were watering our plants. Usually she used to rub her back against the stone, playfully. Wondering what was wrong, and why she was so fatigued and lanky, I called our vet, who couldn't come as he was in some other surgery. We thought we'd wait for a little while longer and I tried to pet her, but she kept jumping away. Then I picked her up and placed her on my lap and there she slept for a little while. Then I had to go feed our other pets, so I got off. Even my sister and dad were keeping an eye on her. However, when I returned to my room, the cat went into the bathroom where her litter was kept and I had put fresh litter in it, so it was clean, she went and lied down on it. I thought that was a wrong sign, so we decided to not wait any longer and brought out the car and took her to the clinic we knew, halfway across town.
Our cat was obviously not feeling well. She was moaning, but she did that regularly whenever we took her to see the vet. I called up the clinic, Cessna to fix up an appointment, when the lady said, please bring your cat we'll attend to her. We reached the clinic at 6 pm. There was a long queue and also loads of pets were going in, the moment their owners came to drop them off- don't really know how the appointment thing works. Anyway, we finally got to see the doctor at 8 pm, two hours after we reached the place. Till then there was nothing to suggest that our cat had anything more than an upset stomach, or allergy, or fever that was making her feel listless.
Anyway, they pumped in hundreds of antibiotics with her drip and once she started slipping into some kind of coma, the doctors went on pressurizing us to admit that we hadn't been careful and that she must have vomited during the day or consumed some kind of poison. No sir, she never went out of the house. No poisonous insects, no chance of neighbors also reaching our house. We lived on the top floor of a 6 story building with no other flat on our floor. So yeah, no chance of her having escaped to some place to eat something from outside. Plus, she was in a perfectly healthy and playful mood till the night before and no inclination of any sickness till after 3 pm on the day she died. She had not vomited at all. We were there with her constantly and had come back home to disinfect the whole house, concerned if it was something contagious that she had contracted it would affect out other pets- and there was no sign of any vomit or any other discharge.
The senior doctor, Dr. Pavan, then pronounced after seeing our cat for the first time that day that it was in a 'critical state' and that we should have brought her in earlier- Well, you think!
By 8:30 pm our cat passed away while the vets were preparing to go home. There was a guy waiting in the corridor handy, to bury our cat on his way back. They wrapped up her body in a piece of cloth and put her in a sack and took her away. Their only concern was would we want to keep her collar and bell? Yeah, right! Thanks a lot, doctor!
Then the bill for the medicines and burying charges was â¹2500, all inclusive. :) Weren't we joyous.
So anyone who loves their pets, please don't take them to Cessna unless you want to come home empty-handed, heart heavy as lead, and tears to blur your vision while you're driving home. My dogs went into depression having lost their friend, and well, it has taken me more than a year to write this. I wish someone shuts down the clinic from hell.