A Mixed Bag: Top-Notch Care, But a Few Deal-Breakers

A Mixed Bag: Top-Notch Care, But a Few Deal-Breakers

Hello!

I'm reviewing the veterinary service at 106k3 on Leninsky Prospekt in St. Petersburg, also known as the Veterinary Center on Leninsky 106.

No photos, but trust me, this story's got more drama than a Hollywood blockbuster.

So, if you're short on time, skip to the end – I'll give you the CliffsNotes version.

Part one.

I've got a kitten, about eight months old at the time, with a heart condition. My other cat's being treated elsewhere, but this little guy was having some serious issues.

One day, he started drooling like crazy and stumbled around like a drunk kitten. I was freaking out, thinking heart attack or stroke, and rushed him to the clinic.

They told me hyper salivation isn't an emergency, but I should still get him checked out. I called the clinic, described the situation, and they gave me the lowdown.

Part two.

After a couple of hours, I finally arrived at the clinic. The first thing that hit me was the parking situation – it's available, but not really. You'll likely end up parking on the sidewalk or nearby streets. I managed to squeeze in halfway on the sidewalk, but it was a pain.

The entrance is around the back of the building, and it's easy to miss. The sign on the building doesn't point to the door, which is a bit frustrating.

I waited about 30-40 minutes with my relatively healthy kitten before being called in.

The second minus – and the reason I won't be back – is the music.

They blast it so loudly that the reception desk is shaking! Can you imagine the bass level? After 20 minutes, my ears hurt, and I got a headache.

My kitten hates being in a carrier, but they didn't seem to care. While I was filling out paperwork, he was freaking out in the carrier, refusing to come out. He was scared, stressed, and uncomfortable for over 20 minutes, all thanks to the non-stop music.

We finally saw the doctor, and I have to say, I was impressed overall. She listened to my whole story, reviewed my cat's medical history, and even made a copy of his heart ultrasound disc. She prescribed treatment and helped us get to the bottom of the issue.

I'm not blaming the doctor for anything – she did her best with what she had.

Part three.

We got home, and my cat was his usual dramatic self, but then he just crashed. By 22:00, he was still snoozing, although he should've been bouncing around like a jackrabbit. I woke him up, and he was lethargic, not even interested in food.

I called the clinic, explained the situation, and they told me to bring him back ASAP. We rushed back, and I was warned that the double rate would kick in after midnight.

I waited 20-25 minutes at the reception, and then another 10-15 minutes after the assistant checked on my cat. It felt like an eternity, especially with my cat's life on the line.

Part four.

We were taken in by the on-call doctor, a specialist in exotic animals. She was amazing, but also brutally honest – '50/50 chance. We've done everything we can, now it's just a matter of waiting.' She explained that some animals respond well to treatment, while others don't.

My kitten was in the oxygen chamber, gasping for air, but the doctor reassured me that he was stable. I spent the whole night wide awake, anxious, and waiting for the phone to ring.

Part five.

The morning arrived, and I was a mess – puffy eyes, swollen face, and a shaky hand. I called the clinic, and the nurse told me my kitten was stable. I rushed over, and when I saw him, he was stretching his legs through the bars and demanding to be let out.

The ward doctor asked me to wait 40 minutes for the cardiologist to arrive, so I went for a walk.

The cardiologist did a thorough echo on my cat's heart, and it turned out the edema wasn't cardiogenic. I was relieved, but also a bit concerned – what about the reason for the pulmonary edema? They couldn't tell me that either.

Part Six: The Final Conclusion.

The extra 24 hours in the hospital weren't wasted, as my cat had to go back to the oxygen box for a short while. On discharge, the hospital staff explained everything in detail and handed me over the cat.

No relapse at home, but I was still left with a lot of questions. Two weeks later, I had to schedule an ultrasound for his abdominal cavity, but I ended up going to my primary care physician instead. Why? Because of the TODES – it literally gave me the chills.

So, what's the takeaway?

I'd go back to this clinic in a heartbeat, but the neighbors are a major source of stress for the already anxious and sick animals. I'm not taking a shot at TODES as a dance studio or school – they're great – but as neighbors for a clinic, you'd wish them ill.

I learned a lot from this experience – what pulmonary edema looks like in cats, how to react in an emergency, and that my kitten might have allergies to certain meds. I also learned to be more cautious with my kitten's treatment.

What really gets my goat is that the medical records don't even specify which meds they used and in what doses – that would've been super helpful to know.

Hey fellow pet owners, be more vigilant with your furry friends! They're just as much a part of the family as you are. React quickly, and you can avoid a lot of potential problems.

P.S. For those who care about numbers, the bill for the two-day stay came out to 24,500.00 rubles, including meds and new food.

P.P.S. I get that we're not supposed to mention the doctors' names or personnel details, but come on – it's like writing a review about a car without mentioning the make and model! 'It's a great car, just fantastic!' Yeah, sure, but what brand is it?