Blood test day!

Nearly forgot it. Well, didn't forget the appointment, but did forget to ask to leave work an hour early to get there in good time. Didn't see the point of having a half day for a 6pm appointment, so was going to ask to leave a little early - except I forgot... until it was 5.20pm... ARGH! Panic panic.... rushed home, grabbed the cat, shoved her in the bag, and was at the surgery "only" 10mins late, having called to warn them of this.

Cleo is doing same as always, a lot brighter than she used to be, jumps around more, tackles those tricky "table to sofa to chair" jumps without hesitation whereas there used to be 5mins of bobbing up and down calculating angles best suited. She's been hanging round the water bowl again, which is a bit of a worry. We tend to notice her drinking more than the other two, but generally thats because she's noisier when she does it, lapping away at the water so loudly we turn to look. She does stick her chin into the bowl more than the others, as when she comes for cuddles she's often got a chin of soggy fur that she eagerly rubs against your hand. Tsk! Feeding is going well, she's got a good appetite and is even trying to snatch mouthfuls of the food from the others (we're still keeping her on the diabetic food for the moment, till we fully see how she's doing on insulin etc).

The vet then took a sample of blood, she didn't whimper or anything but wasn't looking best pleased at this, but the nurse was at hand to hold her steady just in case. Full results due in a few days, a quick check of her blood glucose level had her at 14.7 which the vet said was about twice that of a non-diabetic kitty, but he wasn't overly worried about this and said it's expected.

We'll see what he says in a couple of days when lab results are in...

All is sweet in the house

A week on, and back to Dr. O we went, to check up on progress. I'd assumed this was to check how Cleo was doing, but it seemed he was keener to see how I was getting on with the daily shots. Truthfully, I'm fine. He'd been worried that I might have been nervous for kitty, not wanted to hurt her etc, but it has all gone well. The daily injections are simple, much helped by Cleo not even flinching with the shot. She gets her injection after her breakfast in the morning, so an hour after feeding (and when I'm done with my "getting ready for work" routine, a mixture of slacking and panic), she's curled up in the chair having a bit of a snooze. The preparing the insulin (carefully inverting it a couple of times) and prepping the syringe so the right measurement is withdrawn without bubbles of air is the simple bit really, there's no rush or pressure or worry, and so far there's been no technical issues at all. Then, finding kitty is easy enough, she's still curled up in the chair, comfy as anything. A little stroke on the head and she'll (sometimes) lift her head a bit, pinch the scruff of the neck to pull the skin up, easy again, no issue there. The only issue tends to be finding where the fur ends and the skin begins in the scruff lifted from the body, so just pushing the finger into the fur and smoothing the fur outwards a bit to "see" the pale skin below her black fur tends to help. Then, jab. And that's all it is, a slight jab sensation, Cleo isn't at all bothered and still doesn't lift her head or flinch. I think I'm really lucky with her, so laid back. The other two kitties would probably be more of a handful. Depress the plunger to release the insulin under the skin is barely a noticable act too, as the 2 units is soooo tiny it's hardly moving it at all. Then withdraw, and carefully dispose in the sharps bin. Easy-peasy.

Time prepping insulin, and syringe: 1-2 mins (probably quicker, but I don't like rushing this)
Time finding cat: 30 seconds (unless she's not in the chair, not happened yet...)
Time lifting scruff and injecting: 30 seconds.

Anyway, back to the plot, the vet was impressed, apparently he had a feeling I'd be quite calm with it all. I guess since Cleo is the one with the medical problem, and if she's dealing with it so well, there's no point me stressing about it. The action of injecting doesn't bother me either, I wanted to be a Vet when I was younger, then a Veterinary Nurse (wanted more interaction with the animals and the care, plus bonus of less study and exams! That said they still have years and years before qualifying), and I'd done work experience in a local vet which was fantastic, they'd seen my enthusiasm and were keen to show me all sides, so I'd watched operations, even helped out with minor bits like putting in a stitch, and developed x-rays, and I'm pretty sure, even done an injection back then. It's a shame I didn't follow that up. The enthusiasm is still there, circumstances changed though and years at University wasn't going to be an option for me, but hey ho, in the end if that means Cleo and me do well with injections now then all is good.

The vet gave Cleo a quick check over, no tests just yet. She looks well, so that's good. Still drinking a lot of water (more than the other 2 cats at least), but she's not hanging around the water bowl as much as she used to, a couple of months ago she'd lie often with her chin in the water bowl, occasionally lapping at it. We've another appointment on the 27th when they'll do a blood test to see how her levels are doing with the injections after 3 weeks of treatment. Depending on that result, Dr O said he'd like to try testing the levels every few hours throughout the day to plot a graph of how her body reacts to the insulin. Usually they keep them in for a day for this, but since it'd taken Cleo 24 hours to settle in during her 5 day vet visit at the start of the month he wasn't sure this would work for her, her stressing out would ruin her levels and spoil the work we'd done, so he did mention that we might do that at home - but either way, this wasn't confirmed yet so he didn't want to go into too much detail or planning or, as I believe, risk worrying me the owner out too much. I'm not worried, the home testing is something I'm still considering from having read up on the FDMB site, where it's highly recommended. I'm still looking at the different blood glucose meters, they all seem pretty much the same, some need more blood in the testing sample than others, so I'm weighing up small samples with ones that have most recommendation from other users, and those that will be easiest to find replacement strips for.

So, with the check up done, and another appointment in a while, all is well with us. Fingers crossed it stays that way.

Visiting day!

Hurray!   At last, a visiting order (plus lesson in giving injections).  I've been completely rubbish this week in checking up on the fluffy princess.

Day 1: Called surgery after work at 6.30pm to find they'd shut at 6pm.

Day 2: Checked opening times, Tuesdays open till 7, so planned to call straight after work at 6.30pm.  Realised time at 7.15pm... 45mins unpaid overtime, d'oh!

Day 3: Determined! Open till 6pm. Must. Call. Before. 6pm.  Just needed to find 5 mins to myself at work.... realised time at 6.20pm....d'oh!

Felt guilty and ashamed, but ultimately know she's okay as if there was any trouble they'd contact me.  No matter, today I'd set myself as a half day to get there on time for 5pm to practise insulin injections.   Despite leaving work an hour and a half later than my "half day", it still left lots of time, so we got there about 20mins early and sat chatting in the waiting room.  Dr O passed by on his way to drop a letter in the postbox, and then kindly granted us "visiting rights" to sit in the examination room with Cleo.  Poor little girl!  Looked all small and slightly disheveled, her skin having gone a bit dry and flaky as it does when she's a bit stressed and hangs around with central heating too much.   Took a couple of mins but she did react to us and rubbed her face against hands and lay down on my arm - with her eagle eyes and ears trained on all the strange noises around.  You could almost see her planning "The Great Escape" with each glance towards the door to the exit.  That's my girl...!

Dr O then explained that her blood sugar levels were much improved from before Christmas, so the food she'd been on had done some good, but was still requiring the insulin injections daily.  We decided that morning injections would probably be better than evening ones, so we could regulate them to be around the same time each day.  That way if I was late home it wouldn't be an issue, with Dad being a bit iffy with needles and needing more than a couple of practise shots with purified water.

The Doc then explained how to handle the insulin (carefully), to keep it refridgerated, invert it gently a few times before use, and how to hold the needle and inject.   It all went very smoothly, despite being very calm about all this in a strangely detatched sort of way I half thought I'd feel a bit weird with the actual injecting of my own actual kitty (as opposed to when I'd done work experience in a vet and was shown how to do things), but it all went calmly, Cleo didn't even flinch or react.  She's always been good with meds, since we got her and her bro (now deceased) as cat flu ridden kittens from the RSPCA Rehoming Centre.   Quickly adapted to knowing that the uncomfortable med moments makes you better, so all was calm with her now.

Very pleased with her reaction to the insulin so far, the Doc even said that there's a possibity that her diabetes could end up being temporary, never to reappear, or to come back occasionally, or that it might stay for life, only time will tell.  That's okay, we have plenty of time, and regardless of cost or whatever Cleo comes first, and as long as neither Cleo nor me are unhappy with the insulin injections each day then it's all good so far.

Wow, that's actually a positive side to life.  Glad I'm writing this down, I doubt I'd believe myself as having said that.

Anyway, we eventually said bye to both Dr O and Cleo and were sent on our way with a sharps bin under one arm, and a box of syringes.  The cat and the insulin would follow tomorrow. :)

Empty...

Ok, it's official. I'm a complete wuss.

It's not even been 24 hours and I miss Cleo.  Came home from work at 7, fed the other two cats, and since there I've not seen a whisker of them.  Usually Cleo will be close by or on my lap, whilst Joey is asleep nearby in a chair and Chelsea chases imaginary things around the house at a million miles per hour.  But not today, today it's just cold and quiet and catless. Sigh.

I wonder if she believed me when I told her she was going for a spa break to relax for the new year... Roll on Friday when I get her back!

The beginning...

Technically this all started a couple of weeks ago. Or even a couple of months ago. It's hard to pinpoint exactly, but for a while our cat Cleo (aka "Princess") wasn't herself, meowing a lot and straining over her litter tray. She wasn't a happy kitty, and a couple of vet appointments had her on an antibiolitc injection for a minor infection which generally would clear up any issues within an hour and she would happily scuttle around the house as normal. Then a month later, same thing. Meow meow... pained meow. I felt terrible for her as she clearly wasn't happy, but this wasn't as heartfelt when she seemed to always be at her worst at 4am, meowing enough to wake me up and then by 8am being asleep in a chair as if nothing happened. Grrr...

Anyway, fast forward to the latest bout of pained whimpers, and another vet appointment where it was decided to test her urine and blood and check her over completely. I'd not been there for that appointment, lack of sleep had left me in a grump and I'd not cleared time off work, so my dad took her in. A week later the results were due, so this time the appointment was made for first thing in the morning so I could go with for the diagnosis before work. The vet, a lovely man called Mr Olsen, told us that Cleo was diabetic, and that as a result she would need constant treatment. As we were by now only a few days before Christmas, and the surgery would be closed until the New Year, we were given two options, either leave her in then so that they could regulate her blood sugar levels for a few days and get her used to the insulin then, or (and this was recommended) to take her home and feed her solely on the special Diabetic food and then make an appointment in the New Year. This was recommended as the vet himself was away over Christmas and so would be able to keep a dedicated eye on her treatment if it was postponed until the start of January. The latter option seemed the best as it was a hectic time anyway, Cleo would need several days in the surgery as well as a couple of appointments where we would go in to learn how to treat her at home. As she was happy in herself and certainly not in need of any emergency treatment this was certainly the best option. Dr Olsen kept trying to make it clear that it wasn't the end for Cleo, it was manageable. Although aware it was serious, my initial thoughts were just "oh great, this'll be expensive" added with a side-order of "drat... I literally have no TIME for this!". That sounds awful now, but work had been insane recently, redundancies and new tasks to learn so I'd been stressed to pieces, and then with Christmas coming up it'd been so manic that I'd had to cancel plans for extra days off over the holidays. I'm not really that heartless. I don't particularly like my job, and would easily shove it aside if needed for a vet appointment, but at that precise time it was one more thing that I couldn't quite deal with in my head, which also helped with the suggestion of starting treatment in 2009.

Christmas came and went, Cleo loved her diabetic dry food, me and my dad are just about getting used to watching the cats eat. We have three in all, Cleo (eldest b&w kitty, around 15 now I think), Chelsea (tortoishell, aka the fluffy one, around 9 yrs old) and Joey (tabby brother of Chelsea, also 9 yrs old). As Cleo isn't meant to eat the normal food, and the others aren't going to get their greedy gobs on the expensive stuff unless specifically required, we watch them eat and remove anything left over so there's no chance of anyone scoffing each others' leftovers. Considered splitting them up to feed, but they've got into their habit and generally only eat from "their" bowl, so it wasn't so much of a hardship really. Must remember to bring a book or something... I always say that after feeding.

Apart from drinking lots of water (something she's done since getting older, and has been mentioned to the vets at the annual vaccination/check ups) and the occasional bout of infection and meowing, Cleo hasn't really seemed to be affected much by diabetes. She's older - so jumping and coordination is a little off, but nothing serious as she'd never been great with feline aerobics since tearing a tendon as a kitten in an Indiana Jones style leap that didn't quite work out. At least this is what I thought. Now this could be entirely unrelated to her diabetes diagnosis, but on the Saturday just after Christmas (always the late evening on a weekend... when vets are closed, tsk) she had a bit of an episode. I'd been working on my computer downstairs and heard the tell-tale sound of a cat hacking up a furball. I tiptoed around, calling for the kitty to try and find which of the three was the culprit, and then spotted Cleo at the top of the stairs. She spat whatever was displeasing her onto the landing as I started walking up the stairs, making the soothing sounds that I have no idea work or not but to try and not make her freak out and run under the bed to deposit the rest of the furball. I'd barely put a foot on the bottom step when Cleo leaned back as if half sneezing and then just toppled down the stairs! Not fell, not lost balance, but actually toppled. It was as if she'd passed out for a second as she made absolutely no attempt to stop herself falling and I ended up diving at her as she reached half way, holding out my hands to stop her falling further but reluctant to grab her in case she'd injured herself rolling down the stairs. With my heart pounding in panic, she recovered instantly and stood up, pottering around my shaking hands and continuing down the stairs as normal. No ill effects shown, she enjoyed the fuss I made of her afterwards but didn't seem to need it, although I myself felt sick with shock! Presumed it was something to do with blood sugar level, Or possibly just her age. No reoccurance, so didn't make any emergency vet visits that night, just decided to keep a close eye on her and mention it when she went in after the New Year. The furball was pathetically small too, you'd imagine if it results in momentary unconsciousness that it'd be something big affecting it.

Now it's Monday 5th January, and Dr Olsen is back in the surgery so on my way to work this morning I dropped Cleo off. They were expecting her (us?) and so it didn't take long before I was out the door again. The house will seem strange without her for a few days...she'll probably be in a grump when she does eventually come back home, but I can't wait.