Catfood Ep. 01 - Horrible News
#1 of Catfood
A Vixen's Tail
Catfood - Episode 1 - Horrible News
© 2004 Nameless
"Miss Catbait!"
I dropped the magazine I was reading and got up. I had not been particularly interested in it anyway, but there was nothing else to do in the waiting room of a busy doctor. The looks the other waiting patients gave me were the usual mix of idle curiosity, faint concern, both more because of my looks than for my well being, and resentment that I had just achieved what they were still waiting for, an audience with the 'Goddess in White' waiting behind the padded door.
The pain has lessened somewhat since the previous week, the salve and the pills have helped a lot, but my right arm was still more than just a little sore. I flinched in sudden pain as I opened the door. A sense of unease filled me as soon as I saw the doctor. She was studying a paper on her desk, most likely the results of my tissue tests, rather than looking at me the way she usually did. When she did look up, the frown on her brown face sent a shiver through me.
"Have a seat, Miss Catbait."
"It's bad?" I blurted out as I arranged my tail and sat down in front of her desk. The concerned look on her face filled me with dread "Am I doing to die?"
"Yes and no."
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[Timeout. Time for some information on the viewpoint character and the world, the way she might tell it.]
My name is Lydia Catbait. As you can see, I'm a female GELF, a desert kangaroo rat to be exact. I'm second generation, my parents were still created artificially. When I was born, they were still the property of Nexus Biotech, the law that freed them (and the other GELFs) was passed shortly after my first birthday. As you can imagine, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth, they had no education to speak off, being created for manual labor. As far as I know, they never found any job that paid more than the minimum wage. Two years ago my father suffered a sudden organ failure and died within the hour. My mother barely squeaks by on her meager pension.
I turned 18 last month, compared to a human that makes me about 21. My life expectancy is about 60 years, 15 less than that of a human female.
I started working as soon as I finished high school. I was an only child, but we have never earned enough for me to really consider going to college. Not that I was such a fantastic student that I thought I would do well. During the day I stack cans at a supermarket. The pay is quite good, relatively speaking, that is, a dollar above the minimum wage. During the weekends I work at a local bar, serving drinks. The pay is nothing to write home about, but the tips make it worth loosing all that sleep. Sharing a tiny apartment with two other femmes, I even manage to have a little money left to save after paying all the bills.
My surname?
The officer who handled our emancipation apparently had a weird sense of humor and for some reason my father liked the suggestion.
What do I look like?
I'm about 160 cm when I stand fully upright, less otherwise. The fur on my back and shoulders is a grayish buff, my headfur is slightly darker, gray and short. My front and lower face is white. My tail is furred and follows that coloration, almost cinnamon on the upper side, white on the lower side with a dusky band near the white tip.
My non-human genes come mainly from the desert kangaroo rat, but a small part comes from other rodents.
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I stared at the doctor and started trembling " What?!?"
"Well, you are going to die eventually, like everybody else..." She saw that her attempt at humor did not help me and went on "I have some good and some bad news. First, the painful swelling is just an infection and should go away in a few weeks. But then there are some really bad news: You have a particularly virulent form of lymphatic cancer. If it is not treated, you will be lucky to be alive in five years, it would be a miracle if you were alive in ten years."
I started trembling and tears welled up in my eyes. " No!" I wailed.
"The good news is that it has not entered the virulent phase yet. There is a very effective treatment, if you start treating it soon, chances are you'll make a complete recovery."
"Yes?" A shimmer of hope.
"We'd have to give you a more exhaustive examination to find out exactly how far the cancer has progressed, but I'd say the chances of a complete recovery without any long-term impairment is more than 90%"
"Really?" Suddenly I felt a lot better.
"Yes. But you'd have to start therapy as soon as possible, preferably yesterday."
"Ok. Ummm, what are we talking about here? The therapy, I mean."
"Well, it won't be pretty. An in-depth examination is the next step, about half a day in a hospital. Then we have to wait a few days for the results. Assuming the initial diagnosis was correct, this will be followed by two to three months of chemotherapy, then you'll probably have to undergo surgery. Then a genetic reconstruction to remove the defect that caused the cancer in the first place. Another month or so of chemotherapy. Lastly about six months of hormone treatment. In a few cases the cancer is very hard to kill and then the chemotherapy can take up to twice as long."
" Ugh!" I stared at her, my hopes were sinking fast, wondering if I will be able to afford this.
"As I said, it won't be pretty. The chemotherapy is pretty bad, you'll probably won't be able to work after a few weeks and you'll have to spend at least a month in hospital."
My heart felt about ready to stop "How much? How much will that cost?"
"Let's see..." She looked at the paper and tapped it with her pen as she tallied the figures in her head "I'd say 150K, could be as much as 200. More than that if the cancer is particularly difficult to get rid of... That is the price they would charge an HMO, if you pay private, it'll be quite a bit more."
"I... I can't afford that!"
"You'll have to. Not getting that treatment simply is not an option."
"I..." I stared at her, barely able to keep the tears in check. "It's not that I don't want to, doctor. I simply can't."
"No?"
"No. Neither of my jobs provides any health benefits. My last visit here and the drugs you prescribed already took a sizeable bite out of what little money I have saved."
"Ouch."
"Exactly."
"I don't know what to say." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "You have to, Lydia. You are much too young to die." I shivered in fear, she had to be really concerned to have used my first name in this situation.
"I don't know how. I would not work at the jobs I do now if I could find anything better. I can ask my bank for a credit, but I seriously doubt I'd get it. They turned me down when I asked for 10K so I could buy a used car. And if I got it, I'd spend the rest of my life trying to pay it off." My voice was starting to sound panicky, even to my own ears.
"Stop." She got up "Take a deep breath and calm down." She fetched a glass, filled it with water and handed it to me "Here, sip that slowly." I did my best to comply, but I spilled some of the water, my paws were shaking that badly. "There has to be a way. We'll find it." She said, half to herself.
I could barely sit still as I sipped the water. But by the time I had finished it, I had calmed down a little. Blind panic had given way to numb despair.
"All right, Lydia, let's have a look at your situation. You don't have any insurance?"
"Yes. I mean, I don't have any."
"So, you'll have to pay the whole cost on your own?"
"Basically, yes."
"You think the bank won't lend you the money?"
"I don't think so."
"Not even a part of it, say half?"
"I can ask, but I fear not. And when they find out what I want the money for, they'll jack up the interest rate and insist that I take out insurance as well. I don't know if I could ever pay it off."
"Not good. Can you think of anyone you could borrow the money from?"
"Not really. My mom barely breaks even as it is. Even with her part-time job. I don't really have relatives. We keep in touch with the others of my species, but we are not really close to any of them. None of my friends is wealthy enough to lend me a significant amount. Not that I really would to ask anyone for such an amount unless I knew that she wouldn't go broke if I... could not pay it back."
"Let's see... there are a few charities that you might ask for help. You'd probably get something from them..."
"Really?"
"Yes, but I doubt that any of them would pay more than a small part of the costs. But you'd have to ask them in person to find out for sure."
"Beg, you mean..."
"Well, if you want to put it that way, yes. I would not count on getting more than, say 10 or 20k, but that would help. A little at least."
"Yeah. Is there any way to reduce the costs of the therapy? If I stay home rather than in the hospital, if my mother nursed me or something?"
"A little. But more than half the costs are the drugs and what the lab charges for the genetic reconstruction. There is no way to shave even a cent off their prices. If you found a doctor who did not charge for his work and stayed at home as much as possible rather than in a hospital, you might be able to reduce the price by 50k."
"But the chances for that are also not too good..."
"It's not quite as bad as that. There is a reasonable chance you can find a doctor who agrees to charge a needy but poor patent significantly less than they normally would. If you get any of the charities to help you, they can also help you with this."
"Really? Would you? Would you do something like this?"
"Hmmm..." She stares at me for almost a minute "All right, Lydia. I'll do what I can to help you there. Unfortunately most of the procedure requires a specialist, so I can't help you with those. I won't charge you for my time today."
"Thank you, doctor." I lean forward, reach across the table and squeeze her hand. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Unfortunately all that does not really get us where we want to be. Closer, but not there. Any ideas on how to raise a little more money? Things you could sell, ...?"
"Hmmm, not really. I don't own all that much. We rent the apartment. Maybe I could sell my car, but I doubt that anyone would pay more than 5k. I don't have any jewelry." I shrugged my shoulders "I could raise maybe 10k that way, but only if I sold stuff that I really needed. And when I replace those things, I'd probably have to pay twice what got for it now."
"You are right, this does not look promising. But don't give up quite yet."
"What? The only way I could think of to get that kind of money was to rob a bank. Or, maybe, win the lottery. But..."
"But you would not bet your life on that?"
"Exactly."
"Any chance of finding a job that pays better?"
"Ha. Ha. Seriously, if I could find a better job, I'd have taken it a long time ago. I could work at the bar during the week as well, but I don't know how long I could manage that in addition to my day-time job." I sigh "I could earn more that way, but I doubt if it would affect my credit rating enough to matter..."
"Ummm, nothing else?"
"Well, I could sell a spleen..."
"Not really. Not that I think it would be a good idea anyway, but with the latest advances in cloning, the prices for used organs have dropped significantly in the last few years. And given the fact that only someone from your own species would be able to use it, it is rather unlikely you'd find anyone who would buy it."
"Great. Oh, well, I guess I could try to find work at some sleazy porn studio. Or maybe a brothel. I guess even that would be better than dying..."
" Ugh!" She stared at me, then her eyes suddenly widened "But that gives me an idea. It's not something that I feel comfortable suggesting to anyone, but it might be better than that..."
"Yes?" I did not like the expression on her face, not at all. Whatever she was about to suggest sounded less than pleasant. But could it be worse than the alternative?
"It would allow you to get the credit and pay it off in a few years, but I fear that those years may be less than pleasant."
End of Episode 1