The vet shook his head, his expression heavy with concern. “I’m afraid it’s not looking so good,” he said gently, his words slicing through the air. For a moment, it felt as though the walls were closing in around me. I studied his face, desperate for even the faintest glimmer of hope in what he might say next. Meanwhile, Harvey lay there quietly, his trusting eyes resting on us, as if certain we would find a way to help him. My hands trembled uncontrollably, betraying the weight of the moment.
Worsening Condition
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Explaining Treatment Costs
The vet carefully outlined Harvey’s treatment options, each one more expensive than the last. It was heartbreaking to hear about solutions we simply couldn’t afford. “We’ll do everything we can,” he promised, but as he explained each possibility, my hope dwindled. I would do anything to help Harvey, but the situation felt hopeless. We needed a glimmer of hope—something, anything—to hold onto.
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