Right now the People are still just "thinking" about having an ultrsound done on me. It was one of the options the lady at the stabby place gave them. One of the other suggestions was to change my Stinky Goodness, and I was having none of that. There might not be anything wrong with my pancrease (is there an e on the end of that freaking word? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to look it up) but those amylase levels were still up the last time they stole some of my blood. I might have been born this way, but because they think I'm moving a little slow sometimes, the People are pondering wasting good money on it.

Hey! People! Guess what! You're comparing me to a 4 month old perpetually whacked out on kitty crack! Of course I look slower! When I was laying around all day soaking up sun spots before you never thought a thing about it, but here comes that little crack head and Oooooooh Max must still be sick!

Do you not see when I chase him up and down the hall and around the living room at 500 miles an hour? That's me chasing HIM. I can move when I want to, but why should want to?

Sheesh.

I'm really feeling fine. But the People, their little heads always go to the worst possibility... but the Cat Who Came Before Me got really sick, and if they hadn't gotten her an ultrasound she would have died a lot earlier than she did, so now they have that What If thing hanging over them.

The lady at the stabby place also said they could do nothing and see how I feel in a few weeks. I eat, I beat the chit out of Buddah at least twice a day, and I poop vast quantites. I'm fine!!!!

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