Hi everyone,
I haven't posted in quite some time. I've been a chronic lurker for a long time now. But something happened this past weekend and I'm having problems dealing with it because it's just so incredibly sad.
Warning: If you're an animal lover, this will be hard to take.
My boyfriend's cat had to be euthanized Sunday evening. That in itself is waterworks worthy. However, the whole thing could have been either prevented or reversible had even just ONE thing been different that Saturday, which makes it even harder to take.
His cat, Reena, was a diabetic. She'd been so for the past 3 years (she was 8 1/2). She was so sweet -- she and her "Dad" had the absolute sweetest relationship. It was clear even when he'd give her her shots twice a day. She'd happily climb onto his lap, getting "into position", and he'd pet her just before giving the shot and she'd rub her chin on his, and lick his face. (She'd even do that for me and I wasn't even her favorite human). Just one of the sweetest kitties you could ever meet. And she took her shots like a woman, from the very beginning. No whining, nothing. She was tough.
Anyway, Saturday came and I had company. My friends and I left to go to a museum where Jeff (BF) would join us shortly after dropping off his stuff and Reena Roo (as she was affectionately called) as he was planning on staying over that night. Long story somewhat shortened...we were gone until after 2:00AM (finished out the evening doing some karaoke-ing) and one of my girlfriends and I got back first.
When we walked in, the first thing I noticed was what I thought was urine in the hall. I then noticed my hefty coffee table was askew and a couple candles had fallen from it. But I figured it was the bunny, whom I'd left out of her cage so she could get some exercise, who was responsible for the urine and such, and the coffee table I thought Jeff may have bumped it on his way in earlier. No big deal in either case. Soon I discovered there was more than urine on the floor -- there was also vomit and fecal matter, and Jeff hadn't been the one who bumped the coffee table. However, at that point, I still wasn't too concerned, figuring one of the cats (I have two of my own who were there as well) probably had an upset stomach (and I wasn't in the know about the coffee table yet -- that was due to Reena's seizure which must have been pretty grand for her little 11lb self to move a 25-30lb coffee table, on carpet, a good foot, while knocking off a couple of candles in the process).
As I went into the kitchen to get a paper towel, I finally noticed her -- Reena. I'd walked directly passed her on the way in and didn't see her at all until then. She had somehow gotten herself lodged underneath the end table and I could tell immediately something was wrong. I quickly ran and got the syrup as Allison (GF) was pulling her out from under the end table (she had to tug somewhat because it was such a tight fit). I was so terrified she was already gone I couldn't get that close to her until Allison confirmed she was still breathing but it was labored. After which I quickly gave her some syrup and ran to the phone to call Jeff to tell him he needed to hurry. After which I called an emergency vet. As soon as Jeff came, he comforted her as best he could while I was still talking to the vet, and while he was doing that, she let out the most painful sounding yowl. It was horrifying to hear and I will never forget it.
Needless to say, directly after calling the vet, we rushed her over. At first, the prognosis was optimistic. Jeff asked how often cats pull out of things like this and the vet said, "More often than not they do. As soon as we get her blood sugar back up and her temperature, she should snap right out of it." Her temperature had dropped to 92.5 (normal temp for a cat is approximately 100.5-102.5). Which, to me, should have been a good indication that she'd been that way for a while.... Now, the vet did mention the possibility of brain damage at that time, but he was definitely accenting the positive.
So, when we left we were feeling quite a bit better. Not just because of the prognosis but also because Jeff insisted he go back and see her before we left and despite the shape she was in, she leapt for him from her cage and would not let go. They had to pull her claws out of his shirt. And as soon as they put her back in her cage, she started having what may have been a seizure. However, despite that, because she seemed to know who Jeff was and clearly wanted him (as usual, in other words) it was easier for us to dismiss the possibility of brain damage at that point.
However, the next morning, we got a call saying it wasn't looking as good as he'd hoped. It seemed she'd been in this state for too long before we got to her and brain damage had, in fact, set in.
We went to see her Sunday around noon and spent about 45 minutes with her. We found out that just before we'd arrived she'd had another seizure so they'd just given her some Valium. Jeff held her in his arms and talked to her and we petted her. At that point, we discovered she was also blind. Not long after that, as he was holding her, she started having another seizure. At that point, I hadn't witnessed one and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. It was horrible. She didn't hurt herself but it was clear she had no idea what was going on and yet she almost seemed frightened.
They took her away and gave her yet more Valium. The vet came in again and talked to us about the possibilities. We were just not ready to give up yet and decided we'd give her a few more hours and see if, by some miracle, her seizures would lessen or cease entirely. So we came back early that evening. Sadly, she'd had another again directly before we got there and it was pretty bad, from what we were told. So, once again, they'd given her Valium (which, more than likely, simply masked her symptoms altogether). But Jeff held her for a good couple hours and we talked to her and told her how much we loved her and our very favorite things about her...then she seemed like she was about to have another seizure so I went to get help.
When I came back with help she was actually walking around but it was clear she was basically on auto-pilot. At one point she even walked into the corner (she didn't hurt herself as she wasn't going very fast) and she did it a couple of times, like she was confused why she couldn't move forward in that direction. (Another indication that she couldn't see). But her behavior right then seemed so much more normal than what we'd previously witnessed up to that point so we were both experiencing a sense of hope, only to have it dashed very soon thereafter as she went into another seizure, this one worse than any other we'd seen. At that point we made our decision and it was the absolute hardest decision I've ever had to make.
We wanted to be there when it happened -- extremely hard but worth it to be there with her during her final moments as well as to simply be able to say good-bye. And now we're just dealing with the aftermath.
There's been a lot of "If only we'd done this...", "If only we'd done that..." There were so many things that could have changed the outcome, that almost DID change the outcome...but for whatever reason, didn't happen. I realize it's not a good road to go down thinking like that, but it's so hard because it COULD have been prevented or reversed. And what makes it even harder is that it was so traumatizing on her. She didn't go quietly or easily.
Anyway, the cause is still somewhat uncertain but we're pretty sure, based on what the doctor said, that it had to do with her insulin and that it more than likely happened an hour or so after dropping her off at my place. She had just gotten a new vial of insulin and, I wasn't aware of this, but apparently you're not supposed to use the dregs of the vial. You're simply to throw it away before it's completely empty, or close to it, and begin a new one because they lose potency over time. Which means, if you're not careful or aware of that, you could go from giving the animal the weakest part of the insulin to the most potent part, which can basically cause what happened to happen. Jeff WAS aware of this and for the first two doses of that vial he'd given her 2 units (usual dose was 3) but that day, he went ahead and gave her 3, thinking it'd be okay.
Never once had she gone into diabetic shock like that for us. Not once.
I do appreciate you taking the time to read this very long and very sad story. Everyone who is a part of this site, from what I've witnessed, is so thoughtful and kind and I know there are quite a few animal lovers here too, who might be able to empathize. And I think it helped for me to share.
Thanks again,
Kris
P.S. If I could figure out how to post a picture, I would.
I haven't posted in quite some time. I've been a chronic lurker for a long time now. But something happened this past weekend and I'm having problems dealing with it because it's just so incredibly sad.
Warning: If you're an animal lover, this will be hard to take.
My boyfriend's cat had to be euthanized Sunday evening. That in itself is waterworks worthy. However, the whole thing could have been either prevented or reversible had even just ONE thing been different that Saturday, which makes it even harder to take.
His cat, Reena, was a diabetic. She'd been so for the past 3 years (she was 8 1/2). She was so sweet -- she and her "Dad" had the absolute sweetest relationship. It was clear even when he'd give her her shots twice a day. She'd happily climb onto his lap, getting "into position", and he'd pet her just before giving the shot and she'd rub her chin on his, and lick his face. (She'd even do that for me and I wasn't even her favorite human). Just one of the sweetest kitties you could ever meet. And she took her shots like a woman, from the very beginning. No whining, nothing. She was tough.
Anyway, Saturday came and I had company. My friends and I left to go to a museum where Jeff (BF) would join us shortly after dropping off his stuff and Reena Roo (as she was affectionately called) as he was planning on staying over that night. Long story somewhat shortened...we were gone until after 2:00AM (finished out the evening doing some karaoke-ing) and one of my girlfriends and I got back first.
When we walked in, the first thing I noticed was what I thought was urine in the hall. I then noticed my hefty coffee table was askew and a couple candles had fallen from it. But I figured it was the bunny, whom I'd left out of her cage so she could get some exercise, who was responsible for the urine and such, and the coffee table I thought Jeff may have bumped it on his way in earlier. No big deal in either case. Soon I discovered there was more than urine on the floor -- there was also vomit and fecal matter, and Jeff hadn't been the one who bumped the coffee table. However, at that point, I still wasn't too concerned, figuring one of the cats (I have two of my own who were there as well) probably had an upset stomach (and I wasn't in the know about the coffee table yet -- that was due to Reena's seizure which must have been pretty grand for her little 11lb self to move a 25-30lb coffee table, on carpet, a good foot, while knocking off a couple of candles in the process).
As I went into the kitchen to get a paper towel, I finally noticed her -- Reena. I'd walked directly passed her on the way in and didn't see her at all until then. She had somehow gotten herself lodged underneath the end table and I could tell immediately something was wrong. I quickly ran and got the syrup as Allison (GF) was pulling her out from under the end table (she had to tug somewhat because it was such a tight fit). I was so terrified she was already gone I couldn't get that close to her until Allison confirmed she was still breathing but it was labored. After which I quickly gave her some syrup and ran to the phone to call Jeff to tell him he needed to hurry. After which I called an emergency vet. As soon as Jeff came, he comforted her as best he could while I was still talking to the vet, and while he was doing that, she let out the most painful sounding yowl. It was horrifying to hear and I will never forget it.
Needless to say, directly after calling the vet, we rushed her over. At first, the prognosis was optimistic. Jeff asked how often cats pull out of things like this and the vet said, "More often than not they do. As soon as we get her blood sugar back up and her temperature, she should snap right out of it." Her temperature had dropped to 92.5 (normal temp for a cat is approximately 100.5-102.5). Which, to me, should have been a good indication that she'd been that way for a while.... Now, the vet did mention the possibility of brain damage at that time, but he was definitely accenting the positive.
So, when we left we were feeling quite a bit better. Not just because of the prognosis but also because Jeff insisted he go back and see her before we left and despite the shape she was in, she leapt for him from her cage and would not let go. They had to pull her claws out of his shirt. And as soon as they put her back in her cage, she started having what may have been a seizure. However, despite that, because she seemed to know who Jeff was and clearly wanted him (as usual, in other words) it was easier for us to dismiss the possibility of brain damage at that point.
However, the next morning, we got a call saying it wasn't looking as good as he'd hoped. It seemed she'd been in this state for too long before we got to her and brain damage had, in fact, set in.
We went to see her Sunday around noon and spent about 45 minutes with her. We found out that just before we'd arrived she'd had another seizure so they'd just given her some Valium. Jeff held her in his arms and talked to her and we petted her. At that point, we discovered she was also blind. Not long after that, as he was holding her, she started having another seizure. At that point, I hadn't witnessed one and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. It was horrible. She didn't hurt herself but it was clear she had no idea what was going on and yet she almost seemed frightened.
They took her away and gave her yet more Valium. The vet came in again and talked to us about the possibilities. We were just not ready to give up yet and decided we'd give her a few more hours and see if, by some miracle, her seizures would lessen or cease entirely. So we came back early that evening. Sadly, she'd had another again directly before we got there and it was pretty bad, from what we were told. So, once again, they'd given her Valium (which, more than likely, simply masked her symptoms altogether). But Jeff held her for a good couple hours and we talked to her and told her how much we loved her and our very favorite things about her...then she seemed like she was about to have another seizure so I went to get help.
When I came back with help she was actually walking around but it was clear she was basically on auto-pilot. At one point she even walked into the corner (she didn't hurt herself as she wasn't going very fast) and she did it a couple of times, like she was confused why she couldn't move forward in that direction. (Another indication that she couldn't see). But her behavior right then seemed so much more normal than what we'd previously witnessed up to that point so we were both experiencing a sense of hope, only to have it dashed very soon thereafter as she went into another seizure, this one worse than any other we'd seen. At that point we made our decision and it was the absolute hardest decision I've ever had to make.
We wanted to be there when it happened -- extremely hard but worth it to be there with her during her final moments as well as to simply be able to say good-bye. And now we're just dealing with the aftermath.
There's been a lot of "If only we'd done this...", "If only we'd done that..." There were so many things that could have changed the outcome, that almost DID change the outcome...but for whatever reason, didn't happen. I realize it's not a good road to go down thinking like that, but it's so hard because it COULD have been prevented or reversed. And what makes it even harder is that it was so traumatizing on her. She didn't go quietly or easily.
Anyway, the cause is still somewhat uncertain but we're pretty sure, based on what the doctor said, that it had to do with her insulin and that it more than likely happened an hour or so after dropping her off at my place. She had just gotten a new vial of insulin and, I wasn't aware of this, but apparently you're not supposed to use the dregs of the vial. You're simply to throw it away before it's completely empty, or close to it, and begin a new one because they lose potency over time. Which means, if you're not careful or aware of that, you could go from giving the animal the weakest part of the insulin to the most potent part, which can basically cause what happened to happen. Jeff WAS aware of this and for the first two doses of that vial he'd given her 2 units (usual dose was 3) but that day, he went ahead and gave her 3, thinking it'd be okay.
Never once had she gone into diabetic shock like that for us. Not once.
I do appreciate you taking the time to read this very long and very sad story. Everyone who is a part of this site, from what I've witnessed, is so thoughtful and kind and I know there are quite a few animal lovers here too, who might be able to empathize. And I think it helped for me to share.
Thanks again,
Kris
P.S. If I could figure out how to post a picture, I would.
