A Ghost of Daisies

Last night, my diabetic cat had another relapse with the battle against low blood sugar. Since I had some experience under my belt now, I did not take her to the vet, but kept her at home and monitored her care myself. It took her four hours to come out of it, but she’s doing pretty well today. I did a glucose curve on her today and she’s got a strange pattern going on. Tomorrow I’ll check her glucose levels before deciding whether or not to give her insulin.

It’s a scary time and I keep having to face the question of how when I know it’s time and there is nothing left I can do for her?

My diabetic cat was disoriented last night and kept walking in circles about my room. It took me awhile, but I then realized I needed to check her blood sugar which read 40. Her normal range is about 150 to 350. The emergency vet said that she may have had a seizure while I was out having a girls’ day with my friends. :-(

This morning I transferred her from the emergency hospital to her vet. Her left front leg was wrapped in a blue bandage to protect the catather she had in her leg from the IV. She had to be sedated at 11pm because as her blood sugar rose, she became anxious and started complaining non-stop. She still hasn’t ate so I’m not sure what good a blood curve will do her. When I picked her up, she was awake and complaining again. While waiting for the vet to take her back, I sat cross-legged on the floor with the Pet Taxi door open, my forehead resting against it while petting Dollbaby who was trying to force her way out of the cage.

Last night was the most terrified I’ve been since Chii had to be rushed to the emergency room four years ago. I think I’m getting too old for these heart-attack inducing issues.

Dollbaby is resting now. I’ll be out of town for a few days so my roommate will be responsible for her. >_>

I found out the vet was trying to sell me a tale: charge me $80 for an at-home glucose blood monitoring machine when I could pick up the ReliOn Micro from Walmart for $13. The testing stripes costed $22 though so that was a bit steeper (using the internet for next time).

I came to this decision based on my vet trying to get me to come in every week for $80+ testing when I could be monitoring Dollbaby’s health here at home. This website has been a miracle saver for me! They’ve been guiding me on how to do this at home. There are even videos they link to to show you exactly how this process workers. I’m really appreciative of the forum where people have been so kind to my n00b self. The design of the website is way Old School but the information is great!

I’m going to try doing this on Monday, so I’ll report back then.

She was twelve years old when I realized something was wrong.

Dollbaby’s story begins in 1996 when my family went to a Humane Society animal fair looking for the cat the landlord finally said we could have. She was huddled at the back of the cage while April, the orange tabby that shared her space, pushed herself forward against the metal bars. However, my Dad saw something special in the shy gray and white kitten. We gathered around and then decided to take her home. She was the one. Unfortunately, her shyness is more complex and we realized that she had been abused. Even all these years later, she’s timid and can barely assert herself except when no one else is around.

She and I have a complicated relationship. I was in sixth grade the year we adopted her and very lonely. I took solace in Dollbaby having chosen me to be her preferred human. When I’d get home, she’s emerge from under my bed and we would cuddle as I did my homework, her white paw batting at my school books. During my parents’ divorce and then after the move, she got outside. For two miserable months, I waited to catch her. She was afraid to come too close. The divorce had been difficult on all of us. When I caught her, Dollbaby gave me a small scar to remember the struggle as I held her tight and rushed indoors. She has not moved towards an open outside door since.

The years have moved by so quickly and we were poor. I saw her weight fluctuate high and low till it moved to the point of knowing something was wrong. She was all bones, her vertebrae thrusting upwards with her skin hanging from that curtain rod of a spine. She was too weak to leave her solace in Dad’s room (we had adopted two more cats who chased her but loved me, so she moved to his room). However, Dad said she was just fine, leave her alone. I dawdled, knowing my income was sparse, but Dollbaby was taking a turn for the worse.

In June of 2008, Dollbaby was diagnosed as a diabetic that was six weeks from death. Read more…

Dollbaby will be fourteen this year. Her vision is slowly being blocked by cataracts from age and aggravated further by her diabetes. Yet she sleeps on my pillow next to my head and nuzzles my face for attention. It takes her longer to prepare herself for the jump from the floor to the bed. When she hops down she lands much heavier than her “sisters” who are half her age. In November 2009, she had to have all her teeth removed due to dental decay. Side note on that: it has not slowed down her eating one bit and the puffiness in her face went away. She looks a little funny without her teeth, but it does not hamper her lifestyle. She still snuggles with me when I read, rubbing her head on the edge of my grad school textbooks (a bit different than the novels I read in sixth grade). She lies still as I administer the insulin. There was no choice in taking care of her diabetes. She’s my best friend and I can’t imagine life without her.

She’ll be fourteen in May.

Also Chii can be seen at Desire To Inspire’s website.

If you don’t know what Caturday is, you can read about here at your own risk (warning: language and not for the easily distracted or you might lose time clicking through links). To be safe, just let’s say it’s about cute cat photos and I’m presenting Celeste’s adventure out on the balcony for your Sunday browsing pleasure.

As you can tell here, Dollbaby was quite angry about being hauled to the vet this morning. The blood work and a new vial of insulin put me back $200. This does not count the cost and energy of washing Dad’s bedding after she urinated as I tried to get her into the pet taxi. Her Most High Ungrateful One then refused to let me cuddle her for the rest of the day. :-)