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| - My cats, Calvin and Hobbes, have been treated at Lakewood Animal Hospital (originally the Cat Clinic) ever since they were four months old. Calvin died at 5:00 am on March 5, 2013, horribly, at home, of a cancer that had ravished his body; even though he had been at the hospital the night before. He was thirteen years old. Before we left Dr. Barney said, "Go ahead and take him home and get used to the idea that he is going to die. I don't think he is in any pain."
I originally came into the office on January 31, 2013, because Calvin had become withdrawn and was not eating. I was assigned to Dr. Lori Koenig. Calvin primarily saw Dr. Robert Barney all his life. Her first observation was that Calvin was overweight. Calvin had been consistently 17 pounds since at least 2008. His weight had just increased to 18 pounds even though he hadn't been eating. She said he had a fever of 100 degrees. The normal temperature for a cat is 99.5 - 102.5. A fever is considered to be 103 and above. A temperature of 100 degrees was a sign that his temperature was starting to drop. Koenig gave him some antibiotics and fluids that day and took an x-ray and told me to keep him away from the other cat in case he had something contagious. She called later and said they think they see a shadow on the x-ray that could be a tumor, he should have an ultrasound. I told her we would wait to see if the antibiotics helped. She said okay, knowing perfectly well that antibiotics would not cure what he had. After Calvin's death I found out that the x ray report had said, "The distended abdomen and loss of serosal detail is consistent with accumulation of free fluid, carcinomatosis, or peritonitis..." That, I would have understood. However, I did not find out about this report until after his death. In fact the report stated that Calvin should have come in first for a CBC, serum chemistry, and urinalysis, not the ultrasound that Dr. Koenig wanted performed.
In Calvin's last week he seemed like he was running out of energy and I noticed fluid was building up in his belly. On the morning of Saturday, March 2, I called Lakewood Animal Hospital to get an appointment, hoping to see Dr. Barney. The receptionist said Dr. Barney wouldn't be in till Monday March 4. They didn't have any openings for Dr. Barney on Monday, but said I could call in the morning and they would be able to fit him in as an emergency appointment. Things seemed to be getting worse that day, so I called them again later in the day, and they said I should take him to Animal Emergency Clinic in Brookpark. They could at least have faxed the report to the Brookpark Animal Emergency Clinic so the doctor there could have had a firm handle on what he was dealing with. I took him to Brookpark and they hooked him up to an IV to administer fluid, drew fluid from his belly, tried to make him comfortable and kept him overnight. The doctor said, "I don't know for sure, but with these kinds of symptoms there is a good possibility he could have cancer. Take him home and you can take him to his primary vet on Monday." I took him home on Sunday. This cost me $506.25 and put Calvin through hell; spending a night a strange place, being poked with needles, all while dying of cancer. On Monday morning I took him back to Lakewood Animal Hospital. Dr. Barney wasn't in till afternoon and I didn't want to wait that long so I came in the morning and again was assigned to Lori Koenig. She came into the room and I said, "Something is really wrong with Calvin", and she said "He has cancer." How did she know that? Did the doctor from the Emergency Room tell her? She angrily said, "It's been four weeks since you've been here. This kind of cancer is the fast acting kind." What kind is the fast acting kind? "Could we could have saved him if I had been back 4 weeks ago?" "Maybe."
I asked "What can we do for him?"
"You could take him to a doctor in Akron and have him undergo chemotherapy. Or you could take him home and provide hospice care."
"What do you mean by hospice care?" She looked over at the nurse, who was looking at me with an absolutely horrified look, then turned back to me and said, "You take him home and make him comfortable until it's time to euthanize him."
I started to weep uncontrollably, and she told the nurse, "Put him in the incubator and keep him warm", and walked out of the room. The nurse said "You can't beat yourself up," then started asking about Calvin's health history. Koenig's behavior at this time was totally unacceptable. There were plenty of opportunities for her to let me know what was wrong with him but she never did, and then when I brought him in again she acted like this was my fault! What a pathetic excuse for a doctor.
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