May 1996 Chapter 1 – Austin Is Diagnosed
Austin had gone into the hospital with a bad respiratory infection and his vet, Dr. Candace Remcho, whom Austin loves, noticed he was drinking an enormous amount of water and peeing even more. A blood glucose check revealed a sugar of nearly 400 when it should be around 100. We tried him on a diet of Hill’s W/D to see if his blood sugar would come down but a recheck of his glucose showed this wasn’t working.
| Yep, you guessed it. We get to give insulin shots twice a day. I’m a physician so this isn’t a big deal for technique, but schedule-wise, it is horrible. Travel is also a big part of our life, so although Austin has never been boarded before, he’ll have to go to the vet when we are out of town. Right now the local cat-sitters aren’t up for giving insulin shots. So much for that FREE KITTEN we got almost 12 years ago! Austin & Eugene are my kids though. I feel very strongly that if you take in an animal, you are obligated to it much like a child. |  |
Austin gets his very first insulin shot |
Austin is now doing very well on 2 insulin shots a day, back to his playful self. At his last checkup, his blood sugars were all great so it will be 4 months before he has to spend another day in the hospital getting blood checks. He is very blasé about his shots, much to my amazement.
Retrospective Notes: Our vet is great, but I now think 4 months is too long for a newly diagnosed diabetic to go without a check up. I wouldn’t let a human diabetic go that long, and as you will see, that wasn’t a good plan for Austin. Monthly check-ups are a pain for everyone, but best for your new diabetic.
Chapter 2, In Which Eugene Saves His Brother’s Life
July 14, 1996: So much for that 4 month check up.
Austin has been doing very well until a few days ago when I noticed that he was in the litter box a lot, straining to pee with no results. His bladder wasn’t full by physical exam so I didn’t suspect a urinary blockage. He “just hasn’t been right.” How many of you cat owners take your cat to the vet for this keen observation? I often do. I had been worried that when I came home for lunch each day Austin would not get up to greet me as usual.
A quick trip to the vet reassured me that Austin had a bladder infection and he was given some antibiotics. After the diagnosis of cystitis, I attributed Austin’s marginal listlessness to the infection. WRONG.
I either wasn’t properly cautioned about hypoglycemic signs or refused to hear the information (probably the latter) because I’m still in denial about Austin’s illness and its life-shortening effects. And of course, I am a physician; therefore, I should have been more cognizant of what was going on. The vet probably didn’t want to insult me by telling me what should have been obvious. Don’t make the same mistake I did and have your cat suffer from it.
This morning shortly after 4 a.m., Eugene awakened Paul (Dad) by crying incessantly. Usually, if Gene wants to go out, he use that charming feline technique of casually raking the mini-blinds by Paul’s head a few times. Paul didn’t think too much about the difference in wakening techniques until Gene lead him downstairs to a dark corner of the living room where Austin was lying nearly comatose, totally unable to move, but still breathing. I scooped up Austin as he began to have a seizure and Paul paged the vet. Although all the vets at our clinic, Paw Prints, are wonderful, Austin especially loves Dr. Candace Remcho, and I was relieved to hear she was on call. She of course immediately suspected severe hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) and told us to rub honey on Austin’s gums. (Karo syrup or maple syrup are also concentrated forms of sugar and will work, too.) Austin did not respond; in fact, he lost all control of his head and his eyes glazed over. I thought he was dead but then he had another seizure and seemed to wake up a bit. We quickly dressed and met Dr. Remcho at the clinic. On the way Austin had a third seizure and again seemed to die but then took a big gasp of air just as I was about to start CPR. My only consolation was that if Austin was to die, he would die in my arms, knowing how much I love him.
Austin was totally limp and barely breathing when we got to the clinic. Dr. Remcho wasn’t optimistic at first. Austin’s blood sugar was only 32, with 25 being “consistent with death.” He was given more concentrated sugar and an IV was started. It’s not an easy task to start an IV on a human with low blood pressure and I was very impressed that Candace got an IV in Austin’s tiny, collapsed vein as he was on the verge of death. Within 10 to 15 minutes Austin was able to shakily attempt to stand up. We stayed for awhile but realized we were probably interfering, so we gave our love to Austin and left him to the capable hands of Dr. Candy.
 | Dr. Remcho called us early in the afternoon and told us Austin looked much better but his blood sugar was still only 53 (100-150 would be a goal). Austin is still in the hospital and I am a wreck worrying about him. |
Eugene hugs Austin after one of his insulin shots |
Retrospective Notes:
I was not properly prepared for hypoglycemia signs, primarily because of denial about Austin’s illness. Cats tend to show hypoglycemic signs late, unlike dogs and humans. If your cat becomes listless or has other subtle behavior or eating changes, pay attention. Have the cat’s glucose level checked. I am appalled at myself that Austin went to the vet, was diagnosed with an illness and never had his blood sugar checked. Did he have cystitis or was his volume status/blood pressure so low that he wasn’t producing urine? If your cat gets sick, have his blood glucose checked, too.
Another approach would be to use kitty urine glucose sticks to see if the blood glucose is going too high and then “spilling” over into the urine. Urine should not have any glucose in it. Note that these strips will NOT tell you when the blood glucose is too low, as happened to Austin.
Update! Austin is alive! He stayed in the hospital a couple of days and came home pretty weary but as loving as ever. In fact, he didn’t want to leave my lap. He didn’t perk up very fast; I guess near-death experiences can do that to you. We kept him off his insulin but on his diabetic diet and he went back to the vet a week later for a day of glucose checks. His blood sugars were good, so he is now officially a non-insulin dependent diabetic. Apparently, a small percentage of cats do this. The other less pleasant alternative is that he may have pancreatic cancer. (The pancreas is the source of insulin.) Unfortunately, there is no way to easily diagnose this and no treatment, so we just have to live with that concern. Austin in the meantime is pretty much back to his old self 3 weeks after his incident and we are trying not to spoil him too much.
Without Eugene waking us up, I have little doubt that Austin would have died. Eugene isn’t a very smart cat, but he obviously loves his brother and is smart enough to get us for problems. He has been very distraught all day with Austin at the vet. I hope he doesn’t think Austin has died.
Paul and I love both of these little guys so much. Gene is Paul’s special buddy and Austin is mine, but neither of us can bear the thought of losing either one of them.
By the way, Gene got his favorite and rare treat, tuna, for being a hero. He would also like to say that he’s tired of Austin getting all the attention by being a wimp and that if you want to know what a REAL CAT is like, check his personal home page.
9/28/96 Chapter 3, In Which The Parents Relax A Little
Austin continues to do well on his diabetic diet although he has gained a little weight, now weighing 14.8 pounds. I think as the fall rains come on and it gets cooler, he gets less exercise and eats a little more. Austin goes to the vet once a month to have a series of his blood sugars checked. He is staying in the 85-170 range, so his sugar is a little high during the day, but not bad enough to go on insulin. I am encouraged that he looks so well and hasn’t lost a lot of weight, so I think he must not have pancreatic cancer.
Retrospective Notes:
I plan to take Austin in once per month for a day of glucose checks. My vet has a very reasonable charge for this and convenient drop off/pick up times. Besides, they make such a fuss over him at the vet, Austin seems to LIKE these monthly visits. Still, I wish I had the courage to do “paw sticks” on Austin and use a home glucometer to keep track of his blood sugars. Anyone out there doing this?
I did hear from someone about kitty litter strips for checking for sugar in the URINE (see Testing Feline Urine Glucose). Guess I could use regular human dip sticks, too, if I could get Austin to improve his aim in the litter box!
I have now also heard from Virginia Baxter and Julie Paque about using ear sticks for home BLOOD glucose monitoring.
12/13/96 Chapter 4, In Which The Honeymoon Is Over
Austin had a glycosylated hemoglobin checked a week ago and the results are finally back. He has a level of 2.6% which is considered “moderate control.” If a cat is on insulin, the goal would be a glycosylated hemoglobin of less than 2.5%. Austin has just been on his diet. His sugars have been slowing creeping back up, and on December 4 his series at the vet were in the 300’s and his weight was down slightly to 14.4. His skin has started to bother him again and in the last 2 weeks he has had noticeable polydipsia/polyuria. I’m getting tired of changing that litter box everyday! Five months off insulin. Dr. Remcho thinks it’s time to go back on, but we are going to start very slowly at 1 unit per day. As discussed in the Diabetes News section, Austin’s pancreatic cells are now suppressed so we want to give them time to readjust to his lower blood sugars. We’ll try just watching his PD/PU to monitor him. Here we go again..
1/25/97
Austin got started on 1 Unit of Ultralente a day and improved a little. I’ve become much more attuned to his drinking and urinating habits and he continued with a lot of PD/PU after 3 weeks of insulin, so taking a deep breath and remembering what the LA endocrinologist recommended, I moved Austin up to 2 units a day. And he’s doing great! He’s gained some weight, his once beautiful & bushy tail is sprouting hairs again, and he is so much livelier. Dr. Remcho called last week wondering what was going on and one of the veterinary techs asked after him, but I haven’t taken him back for another glucose curve. I suspect he is running a little high on his blood sugar but he just looks so darn good. He has started coming in and sitting on my lap while I work on the Feline Diabetes web site. Every now & then, he pushes a few keys for me. And we talk about every email and hug each other when some not so good news comes in about one of his diabetic friends. I would have never believed a silly little cat could provide so much companionship.
Chapter 5, In Which Austin Takes a Downturn
February 19, 1997
Dr. Remcho, Austin’s vet, has left several messages on my answering machine asking about him. I finally connected with her this week and told her how I was trying to monitor Austin by his PU/PD but that he didn’t seem to be doing quite right. He has been pretty listless the last 2 weeks and has even quit sleeping with me (my RIGHT armpit has been his bed for years!) and he is looking a little ragged. Guess he isn’t grooming much, another bad sign. He seems skinnier than ever and by my crude scale weighs only about 12 pounds, down another 2.5 lbs. Austin was a 16-17 pounder before this all began and weighed 14.4 two months ago.
We are also worried because Austin seems to be having some problems with his hind legs giving out on him at times and his balance on uneven surfaces has been very poor. His eyes seem cloudy, too, and he startles easily now. If I move too fast, he will run in fright from the room. This is just not like Austin, who is always calm and dignified. To the vet tomorrow and maybe some of these concerns will be resolved.
Dr. Remcho also has a cat with diabetes, Smokey. She told me that Smokey is off insulin now but the bad news is that he has a palpable mass in his pancreas. This is probably cancer, and nothing can be done for pancreatic cancer in the cat. Poor little Smokey and poor Dr. Candace. She lost one of her dogs last year and now Smokey.
February 20, 1997
Austin went to the vet this morning. He only weighs 11.2 pounds. Ouch! Dr. Remcho called me this afternoon and wants to keep Austin overnight for some more testing. She was concerned that Austin didn’t even complain during his nail trim (it usually takes two people and involves Austin biting rather nastily, the only time he isn’t just the sweetest cat in the world) and didn’t even care about her world-class tummy rubs that he usually adores. She said 11.2 pounds wasn’t a bad weight for Austin but unfortunately he has lost a lot of muscle mass and tone with that weight loss. This muscle loss is probably responsible for his rear leg problem, not neuropathy as I feared. Guess we will have to put him on an exercise program! I forgot to ask her about his eyes. Unfortunately, his blood glucose ran very high all day (he had his 2 units of Ultralente insulin at 7:15 am) with the lowest reading being in the high 300’s. I feel like a terrible mom. I should have kept taking him in each month. My husband thinks we should now start doing home glucose checks like so many other people do. I realize that I am still in denial nearly one year after Austin was diagnosed. I want him to be well and live many more years and in an attempt to not dwell on his illness, I have been ignoring it too much. Oh, little Austin. I was so hoping you would be home today. I had put a chair out on the porch so we could sit in the sun and enjoy this rare beautiful February day. Instead, you are in the hospital, in a cold little cage. Thank goodness all the Paw Prints staff make such a fuss over you. I know you won’t be too lonely.
2/23/97
I brought Austin home this weekend and I think he has now forgiven me for leaving him at the vet. We will try him out on 4 units of Ultralente, still just one time a day. 🙂 Dr. Remcho has asked that I bring him back in 2 weeks, saying that monitoring the PU/PD is fine once Austin is stabilized on his insulin, but not such a good idea before that to rely on that method alone. Austin does not have cataracts but has “dyslenticular sclerosis.” This is a progressive loss of vision associated with aging. I do not know if the diabetes is accelerating it. Dr. Remcho says there is good penetration of light through the lens though, so it isn’t too bad right now.
Austin’s renal (kidney) function has also been a concern since diabetes can damage the kidneys. Dr. Remcho checked the urine specific gravity and it was 1.030, good for a cat, so Austin’s kidneys are concentrating his urine as they should be. Apparently, a urine specific gravity of more than 1.040 would indicate possible kidney damage and the vet would have checked a blood test for the kidneys.
And Paul, Eugene, and I are ecstatic that Austin is back home and appears to feel so much better!
Note: I guess I remembered the info from the vet backwards. Heard from a vet on 2/22/98 who corrected me (see next paragraph). Again I remind everyone that this is my PERSONAL homepage, and my PERSONAL diary that I have chosen to share with you. I am not giving veterinary advice or information. I will reserve my comments about the last sentence in this vet’s email.
“I was reading through the report on Austin’s urine specific gravity and it was stated the his USG was 1.030 and this was good—-wrong!!! The normal specific gravity for a cat should be greater than 1.045 or so. Concentrated urine is good! When a cat begins to show signs of renal disease the specific gravity decreases. I would consider a cat with a specific gravity of 1.030 to be dilute and consequently showing definite signs of kidney disease. The problem with message boards on the internet is that they can present misinformation, as is the case in this instance. –Dr. Ellen Guttormson, DVM”
3/6/97
Austin has been looking great. Still some polydipsia but the polyuria is much improved. What a relief: I think we were spending more on kitty litter than insulin, syringes, and vet combined! Dr. Remcho wants to check a glucose curve again tomorrow, so back to the vet he goes.
Austin’s Diary, The Eugene Chapters
 | April 22, 1997 Eugene got his virtual can opener, thank you very much! He has had one round of intravenous vincristine on April 15 and had oral cytoxan at home on April 17. He seemed very tired the day after the cytoxan and even skipped his normal 4 a.m. awakening of me. (Usually he just wakes Paul, but Paul is out of town again.) He was very playful during the day, even scampered up the dogwood tree. His appetite was a bit off and he had one pretty violent vomiting episode. He woke up vomiting during the night, refused even tuna the next morning. I cooked a chicken breast for him but he didn’t want that. Then I noticed he hadn’t been drinking any water. Dr. Candace was off for the weekend, but good Dr. George took a look at Eugene and decided to keep him for rehydration and antacids. Gene had to stay in the hospital until yesterday evening, but he came home just in time to greet his dad returning from his trip. In fact, Eugene is yowling right now for me to stop this nonsense and take him outside, so later! Chapter 10, In Which I Get Depressed April 26, 1997
Eugene went in to the vet on Wednesday, April 23, expecting to have round 2 of chemotherapy. I was horrified that his weight was 8.8 lbs. I weighed him on Saturday, when he had to stay in the hospital for dehydration and he weighed 9.8 pounds then. A pound of weight loss in 4 days. This is awful. And then he couldn’t have his chemo. His white blood cell count was up to 21,000 with 18K being the upper limit of normal for a cat. Eugene was sent home with antibiotics and we will try again next Wednesday for the chemo. Eugene has seemed much perkier. He had the crazy dashes yesterday, doing an impressive lightning run from the back yard to the front, banked off the dogwood tree about 2 feet off the ground, and then dashed to the back yard and up into the maple tree! I laughed and laughed to see him so frisky and so NORMAL. He was pretty tired after that though and went to bed. Today, we worked in the garden, which meant Eugene laid on the compost pile, soaking up the warmth. He did play with me and I chased him around the yard some. It is so good to see him play. His hair hasn’t even started to grow back. Guess the chemo didn’t help that, but it just makes him look sick. He is so skinny that the sutures that were used to close the peritoneum (the tough lining of the abdomen that is under the surface of the skin) are starting to poke through his skin. Paul and I had a long talk about the weight loss, lack of hair growth, persistent intermittent vomiting, etc. We want to be realistic. Eugene is not going to get well. We even agreed that we think he will be dead within 2 weeks. I am just happy that his quality of life is still pretty good. Paul is out of town again (Yes! Again!), just for the weekend, and Gene has been so sweet snuggling close to me at night, always sleeping with his head or paw in my hand. I sent a photo of Gene and a clump of his fur to Memphis with Paul so he wouldn’t miss him too badly. This is so hard. So much harder than I thought. I am horrifyingly depressed over this. Partly because of Paul, who fell asleep crying the other night, partly because I love little Gener so much, partly because I don’t know that I have ever had a pet (since I was little) that has died, and a lot because it brings back such bad memories of my mother and my best friend dying of cancer. I want this all to be over, but the second it is, I will feel guilty for wishing that, and want even 5 minutes more. Poor little Boney Maroney Gene. He is like a little feather he is so lightweight. Austin weighs 11.2 pounds, very light for him, and he looks and feels like a giant next to Eugene. I am so depressed over this. I told my sister, Nancy, about struggling so much with this cancer in Eugene and wanting it to be over. Nancy emailed me, saying, “Remember in Terms of Endearment when Debra Winger dies, and Shirley MacLaine says “I was so stupid – I thought it would be a relief when she died!” – that pretty well sums it up. It’s easy to be philosophical about death when it’s an abstract theory, but when it’s a person or animal that you love, all logic and reason flies out the window.” That’s a good sister I have. And just to make me worry more, Austin hasn’t exactly been a peach lately. Two weeks ago he had a glucose curve done and his blood sugar went down to 40 at one point, so he was cut back from 7 to 5 units of insulin once a day. Austin went back in on April 22 for another glucose curve and this time his glucose dipped down to 40 and then later to 31! They had to give him a supplement to bring his sugar back up. Last year, when Austin got down to 32, he went into a coma and had seizures. The vet then said a glucose of 25 is “consistent with death.” So Austin is down to 3 units of insulin once a day. I am so worried about him. Yesterday he had trouble jumping into my lap while I was sitting in the kitchen bar stool having cereal. It is a routine for Austin to jump up and share my cereal every morning. This morning, he didn’t even want to try but sat there and cried. I taunted him and got him to jump up, but he failed miserably and I think he hurt himself falling. What a rotten mom I am. He was scared to try and jump in my lap later when I was in a regular chair, but he did make that, with difficulty. So, now the dreaded back leg neuropathy. He only weighs 11.2 pounds, quite skinny for him, despite pigging out on all the tuna and wet food I give Eugene. I thought Austin was getting fat; unfortunately, Gener is just so pathetically skinny that Austin seems fat even though he is losing weight, too. Guess these two cats, brothers/littermates, share a genetic pool that says 12-13 years is their life span. I was kind of hoping for that 17-20 year range. I wonder what has happened to their other littermates. I feel tired. I wake up all night long, checking to see that Eugene hasn’t died and that Austin isn’t in a coma. Thank goodness I have all my Feline Diabetes friends to encourage me and distract me. Thanks, guys.
The Brothers Wonderful Chapter 11, In Which My Little Guys Dwindle5/6/97 My life seems to really be revolving around the boys. We have quit horseback riding, don’t see our friends, and the house is a mess. We have gotten to where we hate to deny the boys anything and the house reflects it. The sofa is draped with blankets so they can lounge on it and Eugene can sharpen his claws on the side without ruining the upholstery. (This from a cat who has NEVER been a furniture scratcher.) A scratching post in the middle of the living room floor, an item they hold in great disdain. Mismatched area rugs all over the carpet, attempts to be “vomit catchers.” A fluffy pet bed in front of the fireplace, also ignored. The box we carried Eugene to the vet in when he perforated his bowel is under the coffee table. There are empty tuna cans and scraps of food all over the kitchen from Gener’s tuna/meat on demand diet. Stools and benches are positioned so Austin can get into his favorite furniture now that his neuropathy is so bad in his hind legs. In fact, as I write this, I am so disgusted by the mental image, I may go downstairs and clean house! About midnight, Eugene got very restless and started pacing, scratching in the litter box repeatedly, and crying. Paul got up but Eugene didn’t want food, he didn’t want to go outside, he didn’t know what he wanted. Finally, Gene got back in bed with Paul and tried to burrow into him. I could tell Paul was crying again. Gene seems pretty happy most of the time, other than tiring easily. Just yesterday we ran around the yard and had a good game of “sticks.” He looked pathetic this morning. Very pale gums, nose, and eye rims. Kind of that fuzzy, old, sick look cats can get that looks simultaneously adorable and pathetic. Today is Eugene’s 50th!! Cats with intestinal lymphoma have a median 50 day survival, so that half are dead by 50 days (and essentially all by 100 days). So Gene of the Jungle has made it into the top group! I find it hard to believe it has been 50 days. I wish we could be saying it has been 500 days. But all the worry and money and time have been worth it to have this silly little bunny around. He has been having a great time, too, in general. He was so good this morning (or so sick, or so resigned?) that he didn’t even whine as we drove to the vet for his third round of chemotherapy. He is such a trooper. Both of the boys have been little cat angels. They often sleep together during the day. One day last week when Eugene was having kind of a tough post-chemotherapy day, I went downstairs and they were on the sofa and Austin was cradling Eugene’s head in his paws, holding him gently! I am sure that I anthropomorphize tremendously but Austin does do a lot of comforting. I find this remarkable since Austin has been having trouble with his sugars and with hind leg neuropathy and doesn’t exactly act like he feels well either.
Chapter 12, In Which the Door Begins to Close
So many wonderful people are asking about Austin & Eugene. Austin is okay, taking good care of his brother. Eugene’s time is drawing very close now. I have sent a few emails out regarding his condition in the last two days and I am just going to put excerpts from those messages here because I don’t have the energy to respond individually anymore. Gene couldn’t have his chemo on Tuesday due to an elevated white blood cell count, indicating infection, and to being very anemic. I hesitated before taking him to the vet that day, thinking he looked so tired and knowing that it is a losing battle. He came home on two new oral meds: vitamins and antibiotics twice a day. I wanted to cry when the vet handed me those bottles and said, “Are you trying to torture BOTH Eugene and me?” Eugene looks VERY bad today. I can hardly bear it. He gets sweeter and sweeter, wanting to be with one or both of us all the time, snuggling and purring softly. He is getting quite weak, losing his balance on uneven footings (like when he walks on me!). He was standing next to the window today and his poor little belly skin (still no hair) was sagging, and I could literally see right through the skin. He is just a little feather. He still has tiny spurts of energy but not many. Now I am the one crying all the time. So strange that losing a pet could hurt so very much, but I feel like I can’t bear it. This is exactly like when my mother died of cancer. Everything, the dwindles, the pain, the wanting it to be all over, even the love. My mother would understand me loving this cat as much as her! And even though I know I will be crazy once he does die, I just feel like I can’t stand this anymore. We have had two months that we didn’t expect to have with him, but it just isn’t enough. So, I am depressed and uncommunicative. Have you noticed? I just got off the phone with our vet. The vet said that Eugene will very likely go into respiratory distress before he dies and that unfortunately, cats with this don’t die very quickly. JUST LIKE MY MOTHER. For a day, we listened to her “percolate” from the fluid in her lungs, struggling to breathe. It was horrible. I will want to have Gene euthanized before that happens. The vet gently suggested stopping the antibiotics, both to spare Eugene the trauma of the medicine and maybe even to hasten the end in a gentle manner. And I looked at the picture of Kisa and the other little cat angels in the Sugar Cat Gallery last night and cried and cried. Then I read a note about Fletch sleeping around Marcia’s head, like Gene does to Paul, and cried and cried. Gene came over to me last night in bed and hugged my head for about an hour, gently purring into my ear. Gene never leaves Paul’s side at night. I told Paul this morning that Eugene is saying good-bye to me. So many of you know how much this hurts. And I thought I knew how much you have hurt when you have written that your cats have passed on, but I was wrong. I didn’t know. I’m finding out.
I have put a lot of work (and sublimation) into creating a new area in our yard that we are calling the “Eugene Memorial Garden.” Gene goes out and inspects the work periodically and approves. It makes me feel much calmer about the impending days when there is no Eugene.
The mythical garden bench arrived two days ago and fortunately Eugene isn’t superstitious because he is still alive! Austin actually went over to a screwdriver and tried to pick it up while my niece, Amy, and I were assembling the bench, just like he was going to help, too. That cat is scarey sometimes, he is so smart! I hope to have pictures soon, including one of Austin with the screwdriver. Eugene’s hair is growing back more quickly than the climbing plants for his garden arch are growing though. Gener has looked relatively great. His “Uncle John” is visiting for the summer from Birmingham, Alabama so Eugene has lots of fresh catnip, daily brushings, grilled salmon, and general love from John. Needless to say, Eugene loves it! Austin is doing great, too, and really likes THEIR bench, so we are enjoying the summer to date, with a full house and two cats in the yard….
Gene continues to look pretty good but he is weak as a kitten. Whereas we used to have many discussions about who is dominant physically (he always wins the mental matches), when I was brushing Gene the other day he tried to resist and I realized I was holding him down with two fingers. I nearly cried at his physical decline. I think Paul and I have been hoping that Gene was cured by surgery and a few weeks of chemotherapy. But he still brings lots of joy to this household. Yesterday morning, I opened the back door to take my coffee to the backyard for consumption, and Eugene ran out ahead and jumped up on the garden bench! Needless to say, I joined him there, very happy.
August 10, 1997 Pumpkin Boy continues to grow! He seems determined to eat so much that he will pop. What a way for a greedy little cat to want to go out! We took Austin in for another glucose curve. He is ok, no change in the insulin. The vet (not Dr. Candace, I think; Paul did vet duty this time) told him that Austin doesn’t have neuropathy, but a loss of muscle mass from his diabetes. If Austin’s diabetes is under control, this does not make sense to me. Why would he be in an anabolic state and losing muscle if he is controlled? Also, my diagnosis of cataracts in Austin was confirmed although Dr. Candy hadn’t thought that was the problem previously. The cataracts are quite visible on both eyes and Austin’s vision is definitely affected. Decreased vision has not interfered with him lazing his days away on the garden bench, however!
August 27, 1997 Gene is so pathetic. It’s like he isn’t Eugene at all. He doesn’t even look like Eugene. Tonight I took him outside for a few minutes (he won’t go out alone) and Austin went with us. Austin lagged behind to spray the rhododendron with big streams of urine. Anyway, Austin was spraying the bush and Eugene walked right through the spray, got it all in his eyes, all over, and never seemed to notice. I got so upset, realizing how out of it Eugene is. When I wake up at night now to check to see if he is alive, I often wish that he isn’t. I just want him to die peacefully. But it is so awful, he is already gone. Today is the 5 month anniversary of his surgery. His 13th birthday is in about 2-3 weeks (we don’t know his exact birthdate). I want Eugene back.
August 30, 1997 Gene had diarrhea all over the bed last night and is essentially dribbling everywhere. I picked him up and got covered with his poop. His legs are so weak that he can’t even get up on the bench to get in bed and has a great deal of trouble even going DOWN stairs. I am carrying around a wash cloth and have baby wipes so I can keep working on his little butt and legs to get the shit off. He smells terrible! So bad I can hardly stand it when I am first near him. We took his special pillow off the bed and put a plastic bag around it before putting the pillowcase back on and put the pillow in his favorite spot downstairs. He is a little puzzled by the crinkling sound the pillow makes now, but he is sacked out downstairs now. We went outside for awhile this morning and Gene wanted to join Austin and me on the garden bench. He got his front legs up on the bench but couldn’t jump even slightly to get up. I lifted him up and Austin & I sat there and snuggled him for about 15 minutes while he covered the bench in diarrhea. I have called the vet and as a result I gave him some Kaopectate; now he he will be stopped up. He can only eat tiny shreds of chicken, hand fed, and often those just fall out of his mouth. I also got some fluids to give to him through an IV here at home but he doesn’t seem to need them just yet. Bless Candy’s (the vet) heart. On the phone this morning, I was telling her that even though Gene is so bad we just aren’t ready to put him to sleep yet but we may be ready in a few days. She started to cry but then took a big breath and composed herself. How many vets cry over their patients? Gene tells me he wants to make it to September, his birthday month, though! As long as he can move around some and doesn’t seem to be in pain, we will keep handfeeding him and cleaning his butt. Paul is still bed-bound with his back, but I made him move downstairs to the coach today so he can be in the same room with Gene. I am sure the coach is much less comfortable, but I think Gene is calmer with us around. He seemed to like that we all gathered in the living room and had dinner and watched a movie. Gene even got up and begged some pork chop from Paul. I now realize that Gene has been getting up at night to poop and has been unable to get back in bed. I had thought he just wanted to sleep somewhere else. Seems like a very precipitous decline in the last week, and I THINK that I hope the decline continues very rapidly. We are still hoping he will die quietly on his own. Poor little guy. And I have been having little crying fits all day, knowing that the final dwindles are here.
Chapter 13, In Which We Say Good-Bye to EugeneSeptember 3, 1997 I feel so sick as I write this. So sick and so sad and so lonely. The living room became “Gene Central” this last weekend. I slept on the floor next to Eugene on Saturday night so he wouldn’t be alone. He seems to want to stay on his special pillow. He was so precious; I woke up at one point and my hand was up on Gene’s pillow and he had his little head resting in my hand, sleeping peacefully. Sunday night we watched TV and had pizza in the living room. Gene was ecstatic! Ham and pineapple pizza is one of his favorite meals and we of course gave him plenty. Eugene actually groomed himself when he was finished! This was the first grooming activity we had observed in weeks. Paul slept on the floor that night to keep Eugene company. That pizza turned out to be his last meal. Monday morning, September 1, Gene got up but could not make it to his food dishes, a distance of about 20 feet, without resting at least once on the way. He refused food and water. We knew this would be the day that he would die. I worked in the yard all day, trying to keep myself busy. Eugene made it out to the back porch after a struggle and laid in the sun for about an hour, with Paul sitting at his side. It was a beautiful day but there was a hint of fall in the air. Summer is Eugene’s time. He always hated when autumn arrived.
Paul picked up Gene and held him in his arms on the sofa, while I supported Gener’s head. The seizures got worse but Gene never cried or whimpered. We cried a lot. I continued to talk to Eugene. Paul said I talked about how great Gene was, how he made it through the summer as I asked, how he lived to September as I asked, how he didn’t die while we were at work, and how he was letting his dad hold him in his arms as the end drew near. I also told Gene the vet was on the way and we were going to help him, but I asked him to die before the vet got there. Paul said I kept saying, “Go, go, go.” Gene struggled but as the vet stepped up onto the porch, Eugene gave two huge whistling sighs and left us. I can’t believe I can even write this now. I have been home today without Eugene for the first time and I am miserable. He was cremated yesterday. I want to write about what happened after Gene died, but I can’t now. I am so very, very sad. I can’t believe our little angel is really an angel now. I woke up constantly last night, reaching for Eugene. He isn’t there. September 29, 1997 Last night I woke up 3 times convinced that there was a big solid white cat sitting on my chest. I swear this was not a dream. Could it have been Eugene’s ghost? I was dreaming all night about Gene, or rather about a piebald cat that looked like Gene, that I wanted to be Gene, but wasn’t Eugene. Austin seems to be doing a bit better but I think he misses his brother, especially for snuggling as the weather grows cooler. He goes over a lot to the spot where Gene “camped” in the days before his death. It breaks my heart now when I see Austin take his little plush dinosaur toy and wrap all around it before he goes to sleep. Personally, a month after his death, I think I miss Eugene MORE than ever. 10/15/97 I debated on whether or not to add the following after I found a scrap of paper with a few notes scribbled on it the day after Eugene died. But I will. After Eugene died, we held him and cried and were disbelieving. He was truly a little angel. As usual, even worse then usual, he was a very dirty and ragged angel. I brushed him and Paul helped me wash him. Poor little thing, he had so much dried diarrhea on his back legs, and mats in his fur. We made him look beautiful again, this time forever. Paul took the top off Gene’s pet carrier and lined it with a dark green towel, then gently laid Gene down and covered him up to his chin. We put the carrier on the floor in front of the sofa and sat there stunned. We decided to open a good bottle of wine and have a toast to our sweet comic and curious cat. While we toasted a life well lived, Austin walked over, touched his nose to Eugene, then sat down by Eugene’s head, as if to guard him. Though it may seem morbid, we didn’t want to let go of Eugene. That night, we moved his carrier up to the bedroom and sat it next to the bed. It seemed wrong to go to sleep without Gene in the bed with us. Taking Eugene to the vet the morning after his death was incredibly difficult. I cried a lot and could not believe that I would never see my furry little bunny again. Paul was numb with grief. Then I had to go to work. And when I came home in the early hours of the morning, the house slept quietly. And for the first time, there was no little Gener to greet me at the top of the basement stairs. Eugene will never be there again. What a difference a sweet little animal can make.
Chapter 14, In Which Austin Adjusts | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
I thought that I had written about Austin snuggling to his dino since Gener has died, but I don’t see the entry on that now. Perhaps I imagined it. Anyway, Austin has seemed so lonely and he often takes his little plush dinosaur and wraps himself around it, just like he used to wrap around Eugene. It makes me sad when I see that. Austin continues to lose weight and is having a terrible time with his back legs. He can’t even jump into my lap. We took him for a glucose curve and he wasn’t too terrible, but we did up his insulin from 4 to 5 units a day. We need to get a new bottle of insulin, too. I try to replace it fairly often (although not monthly) and I discovered that his current bottle is 5 months old. Time for a new one, for sure. | |
Went and played with 3 kittens today that belong to some friends. I am still not ready yet, and as sad as Austin is, I don’t think he wants to learn to deal with a new kitten. The time will come, just not now.
January 6, 1998
| It was a sad Christmas without Eugene. Austin sat in the middle of the wrapping paper debris and looked lonely and lost. Even with the traditional catnip sent by Uncle John from his garden in Alabama, Austin did not roll around and play merrily among the papers as he did with Eugene in Christmases past. He even managed to looked pissed instead of bemused when, like each holiday season, we put a bow on his head. On the other hand, Austin did wear a jaunty bow tie and looked most handsome! |  |
We went to New York City this last weekend for 3 days. My brother Patrick was also out of town, so Austin had to go to the vet for boarding. Austin was way overdue for a glucose curve, so another reason to go in to the clinic. We have been bad parents, even when new acquaintances make comments like, “Wow, your cat is so skinny!” Did we take Austin in for a checkup? No. Denial, I think. We are clinging so hard to Austin, knowing that without him, we would not be able to bear the loss of Eugene at all. Austin seems to know this, too. He works very hard trying to love all of us double so we don’t miss the Big G so much. And Austin wants everyone to know that this is very hard work!
Anyway, Austin went to the vet, supposedly just for a day, but when my brother went to pick him up, the vet wouldn’t let him go home. Dr. Candace thought Austin “just didn’t look right.” Sounds like all of us nervous parents, doesn’t it? As an added bonus for staying 3 nights at the vet, Austin also got a toenail trim and a bath. He was most indignant when he came home, but quickly forgave us.
As a result of his clinic stay and extensive glucose checks, Austin is now back on twice daily insulin for the first time in almost a year, 5 units in the morning and 3 at night. I dread these insulin changes, especially big ones, worrying about hypoglycemic episodes. I also wonder what is going on that makes Austin require so much more insulin. His last glucose curve was in November and he only needed to increase by 1 unit a day. Austin looks fine right now, sitting in my lap, supervising the web page update. I am waiting for his little back legs to get stronger but I suspect he likes being carried up and down the stairs by all the household members!
Chapter 15, In Which Austin Considers a New Partner
January 9, 1998
Austin and I checked the email early yesterday morning and were surprised to find the following message:
Hi My name is Baby, and I’m a 4 yr old female calico. My Daddy and Mommy adopted me six weeks ago from the Delaware County SPCS, and have taken really good care of me. However, I haven’t been feeling so good, so they took me to a nice Vet close to our home in Montgomery County PA. The Vet said I had a really nasty thing called Diabetes, and my blood sugar count was 500+. This really made Mom and Dad sad. You see, they have a problem. Mommy has to go to England for almost two months, and Daddy works long hours in his job. They won’t be able to administer the treatment I need…even though this breaks their hearts. They have called almost every shelter and vet in the area to see if anyone they know can give me a nice place to live and give me the treatment I need. But although the people were sad, they couldn’t help. Most actually suggested putting me to sleep as being the kindest thing. But this made Mommy and Daddy cry a lot. So I’m tiptapping on Daddy’s PC to ask if anyone knows of ANYONE who will be able to take in a cute, cuddly, very friendly and lovable diabetic kitty….otherwise my only option is not a nice one 🙁 If any of you wonderful people can help, please email my Mommy soon….she leaves this weekend. Thankyou all for listening…mieowwww! 🙂 Baby, Tess and Greg Zangari
Of course, our first reaction was to just post the message to our Message Board, knowing that someone would be able to help. We were even sneaky and forwarded the message to our friend, Cindy, who is a known soft touch when it comes to cats in distress! For some reason, we also decided to forward the message to Paul at work and to get his opinion. Before we knew it, Paul shot a message back:
Rebecca –
Yes, we should take this cat!
TEX
Things are moving fast now. The new one is introduced on the Piebald Home Page.
So these chapters, Austin Alone, draw to a rapid close, and we begin The Sister Chapters !
Chapter 16, In Which Austin Gets A New Partner (And, by the way, no one asked his opinion first)
1/13/98
Austin gets a new sister, and she has diabetes, too!
We have been missing Eugene like crazy, knowing he can never be replaced. However, we also knew there was a cat somewhere out there who would be able to start a new place in our hearts. We were certain that this cat would come into our lives at the appropriate time.
Sure enough, a confident calico took to the Internet on January 8, 1998 and announced her availability and qualifications for the job. Using the alias “BABY,” she is a little mysterious about her background but we know she was smart enough to make it out of the Delaware County, PA, SPCA into the arms of foster parents, Greg and Tess Zangari. Though they have cared well for this sassy miss, with her new diagnosis of diabetes, she has decided to come join Austin and help run the Feline Diabetes Web Site.
Believe it or not, we named her RIPLEY! Ripley is a small town in WV, home to the Mountain State Arts & Craft Fair during the July 4th weekend. And who doesn’t know Ripley, too, as that tough alien-fighting woman. And although Ripley is a calico, being predominately white with spots (though muliti-colored), I believe she meets criteria for being considered a piebald! Need I say more?
Austin continues to be a rock. Despite the presence of this hissing, growling yet pushey little calico GIRL, he has maintained his dignity and calm. I love him more than ever.
January 14, 1998
Ripley has ceased her growling each time Austin comes near. Today, Austin walked up and rubbed noses with her, one of them hissed (I think Austin), and then Austin strolled off while Ripley stood there with a doofus look on her face. Feline games.
We are going to have to get used to a teen-ager again. Austin is so calm, and both Austin & Eugene have always been exceptionally well-behaved, thanks to their strict upbringing by the evil Mom-Lady. Ripley is rambunctious. She is also the biggest pig I have ever seen when she eats and when she uses the litter box!
We are also amused as she spends a lot of time batting the water in the toilet, then licking her paws. And being personally conscientious about her hygiene, she finds it necessary to wash her paws in the toilet following each use of the litter box. Of course she gets water all over the seat and floor. I am getting used to going to the bathroom and sitting in puddles of water. This morning was almost too much though. The entire kitchen floor was soaked from Ripley frolicking in the water bowl. Austin and I had to get down on our hands and knees and mop up water! At least the floor is clean now. |  |
Ripley prepares to dive | |
 | We are closing the toilet lids so Ripley has been pouting. To amuse herself, she has managed to collapse a closet shelf, destroy my Snow Village arrangement (no broken pieces, thank goodness), and commit the ultimate cat sin in my eyes of jumping up on the kitchen counters. I have yet to discover the source of the crashing noise earlier today. Despite all this mischevious behavior, she meets me at the top of the basement steps when I came home from work (this was Eugene’s job before, and a position that really needed to be filled in my opinion) and we had a nice time sharing a slice of vegetarian pizza at 3 a.m. this morning. Ripley naturally likes to tear her share directly from the piece of pizza I am holding. |
High diving platform |
Ripley has started her insulin shots. Dr. Kirk, the weekend vet, made a small face when we told him Austin was on Ultralente but wisely did not counteract Dr. Candy’s prescription. He said to start Ripley on Ultralente, too, at 2 units twice a day. Austin has done very well on Ultralente, so we hope Ripley does, too. Paul says that Ripley doesn’t even notice her shots.
Note: We took Ripley directly to the vet after picking her up. She was tested for feline AIDS and leukemia (both negative, yeah!) and received some vaccinations before she ever got to set foot in the house. You should always have new arrivals checked out before introducing them to the household, but especially when an immuno-compromised diabetic is already a resident.
Chapter 17, In Which Mom Feels Sad
January 26, 1998
Ripley is a very agreeable cat but seems a bit bland. I know this is because she has learned to be an adaptable cat and why she is a survivor. Probably her diabetes makes her not very playful either. She did play about two seconds with a twist tie one day and lets me rub her neck for a few minutes each day, but since her initial explorations of the house, she is rather quiet and passive. Well, we won’t count the deep puncture wound she put in the base of my thumb, but that was just an adjustment, although she did try to bite me again yesterday. Paul keeps trying to tell me that it took me six months before I could even tolerate Austin and Eugene, and months more before I fell in love with Austin. Eugene took a year of intense work before he was even sociable. And I am being much too hard on Ripley because I think it was too soon for me to have another cat.
I have the saddest dreams in which I am walking along with Eugene, looking down at his poor little tumor-swollen belly swaying from side to side. Dreams (memories) in which he is laying on the living room floor, so tired, days before he died, with us lying beside him. Dreams in which I am horrified that we kept Gene alive so long, hoping that he was not in pain. I have trouble remembering that Gene climbed trees after his surgery, that 24 hours before he died, he jumped up and shared a Domino’s ham and pineapple pizza with us, sitting and licking his paws in delight afterward. I miss that little cat so much. I’m crying right now. And poor little Ripley is not Eugene, but I want her to be. I want her to be that comic and curious little piebald that Gene was, that little dim cat that is making me bawl my eyes out right now.
And Austin seems to be deteriorating so quickly. He is thin again, his coat is always disheveled and greasey because he rarely grooms. And his legs. That awful back leg problem, which never goes away, is now horrendous. His legs splay out to the side when he walks, like he doesn’t know where they are going to land, and it gives him a weird hunching gait. I want to carry him, but I am afraid that without exercise, they will get worse. He didn’t even want to sleep with us last night. I was up until 4 am and Austin was downstairs, in Paul’s easy chair. “Lean back in your easy chair, the Bunny Planet’s waiting there…” Does he not want to sleep with us, or like Gene, is it just too hard to go up and down the stairs? Austin was upstairs this morning when Paul left, and Paul expressed concern for him, asking me to check on him. I got up at 10 am briefly and found Austin on Paul’s office chair. I just stroked him for a few minutes, then got back in bed, but then Austin laboriously climbed to the bench then the bed and snuggled as tightly to me as he possibly could. And I hugged him tight and we slept for a few hours more. He didn’t want to get up and it almost killed me to make him move. My sweet Austin.
It is a lovely day here today, almost 50 degrees. Much to my horror, the daylilies are sprouting, bulbs are coming up, shrubs are budding, primroses and pansies are blooming. My horror because I know there will be terribly cold weather that will come and kill all my plants. Marcia and Cindy sent me bulbs when Eugene died and I planted them in his memorial garden. I was angry today to see that the neighbor’s dog has been allowed to tromp through the soft dirt of the new bulb garden, leaving deep imprints. No doubt that the fence will go in this year.
Eugene would have been ecstatic over today. Austin and I made our painstaking way out to the garden bench while the sun was full-force on it and we spent a wonderful hour sitting and thinking of our little buddy who is gone. And I am afraid that Austin will be joining him soon. And I know that my heart does not yet have room to love Ripley and I feel horrible about that.
My brother was home just now and played with Ripley, who loves him. We take good care of her; there is no doubt about that. I am just so sick with renewed grief over Eugene and fear, terrible fear, of losing Austin.
January 28,1998
I felt bad all last night for not loving Ripley at first sight. I do LIKE her a lot. I just need to remember that it takes time. On her part, she came into my office while I was on the computer in the wee hours this morning, walked all over the keyboard like a proper cat, then sat beside me, purring and rubbing her face on my face. She even stood in my lap for about 30 seconds but wouldn’t sit or lay down. Goofy girl.
Ripley and Austin are in for repeat glucose curves at the vet today. Ripley jumped right into her carrier, but when the door closed, the little paws were stuck plaintively through the wire door. Probably thought she was back at the SPCA and had to beg to have her life spared. She was initially quiet on the trip in, but once Austin started his wailing, she chimed right in. I felt badly at the vet because they were busy and I had to put Ripley’s carrier down on the floor. Someone let their huge dog then run over and start snarling and barking right in Ripley’s face. Poor little thing wet her carrier. And bad mom didn’t have a towel in the bottom to soak up the urine. Didn’t really seem to bother her. She merrily flicked urine out the carrier all over the vet’s office. Good thing it is dilute and sweet smelling, or she would have been very unpopular with the vet techs. We’ll see how the curve goes.
I must have really been down about Austin because my sister sent email this morning suggesting it might be time to have Austin euthanised! Not a chance! He has to be really old and really decrepit before that happens. Patrick, my brother, and I independently concluded that we need to put an elephant-type saddle on Ripley and train her to carry Austin around! Can’t you see it?
January 29,1998
As some of you now know from my late post to the Message Board, Austin is doing very poorly.
Dr. Candace called yesterday afternoon and after a bit of a chat about Ripley, she hesitantly brought up Austin. Austin’s glucose levels are not just high, they are off the scale. Candace thinks that Austin has developed Cushing’s syndrome, an adrenal problem. She was more worried about Austin’s lethargy. He is usually not very sweet about his blood draws (Candy says they usually have an “agreement” as to where and when this can be done!) but that he let her do anything she wanted and was just totally passive. She was also astounded by the extent of the hind leg problem. After more delicate conversation, I just interrupted and told her that we feel that Austin is near death. She apologized and said she agrees. She wanted to keep Austin in the hospital overnight and give him fluids, but I flatly refused. Austin comes home with us. I did the sub-q fluid routine with Gene and I can do it with Austin. (But I hate it!)
Little Austin is just wearing out, I guess. But I think this will be harder on me than Gene. It sure does help to get the messages of support though on the Message Board. Once again, all my feline diabetes pals come through.
Now that Miss Ripley has a few things to learn….
She not only peed in her carrier on the way back, she took a big poop! I have never heard of a cat doing that. So of course, she had pee and poop all over her which she got all over my leather car seats, the basement, the kitchen, etc. I was less than thrilled.
Ripley seems to know that a transition is going on. She is curled at my feet right now after just munching some of the cheetos I dropped. Any member of this family has to like Cheetos, so Ripley passes that one. Although she is peeing all over our carpets and driving me insane with that, I know that will improve as she is regulated. I also know that if I had more of an emotional attachment to her, I wouldn’t mind as much. We’ll get there. We’ll get there.
February 12, 1998
Of course, immediately after writing about my indifference to Ripley, she started an all out campaign to be loveable! Her behavior has much improved and when she was sick a few days ago (eating houseplants? hypoglycemia?), I felt so sorry for her. And sorry for me, too, as I had to clean up all the diarrhea, vomiting, pee all day long.
I went back and read parts of this diary, and read the section about how I did not like either of the original kittens, Austin and Eugene, when we first got them. I especially did not like Eugene and tried very hard to convince Paul to get rid of him. Absolutely amazing. Reading that though reminded me that Ripley may be the same way. In a year, I may think Ripley is the greatest cat that ever lived! She certainly does like my husband and my brother and she and I have a lot of quality time in the bathroom. Ripley likes to sit on the countertop as I get ready in the morning and I must admit that I rather like that. She looks so cute.
Austin is at my feet right now, trying to hack up a hairball. Adorable. After the scare several weeks ago, he seems to be stronger than in months. We had a wonderful day yesterday, sunny and 60 degrees, working in the garden and enjoying the weather. We even put Ripley in her harness and let her go outside for the first time. She only got to go out on the porch, but she was so wide-eyed and curious. Quite funny.
Chapter 18, In Which Austin Becomes Critically Ill
February 18, 1998
We had a very nice dinner last night, all sitting at the dining table, and Austin insisting on sitting in the center of the table. He usually sits in Paul’s lap at dinner and is not allowed on the table, but he looked so cute we all let him stay there and petted him and commented on how good he was looking the last few days. My brother even cut up some of his meat for Austin and let him eat it directly off his plate and we all laughed about how spoiled Austin is and were amazed that he would eat meat. We made sure Ripley was asleep on the sofa so she couldn’t see this outrageous behavior.
I stayed up late, fighting off sleep, disturbed by something I couldn’t put my finger on. Finally, I went up to bed a little after 1 am. Austin was sleeping quietly on Paul’s ankles and when I got in bed, as usual, he came to snuggle in my arm pit. He stayed only seconds before he got up and moved to the pillow next to my head. He couldn’t calm down though, constantly changing position and after a few minutes of this, bolted off the bed, into the hall, and under a piece of furniture.
Since he has recently changed insulin and has not been well-controlled, my first thought was hypoglycemia. He then started having trouble moving his back legs at all and I ran for the honey. He did not improve after a few minutes and began panting. I called out and woke Paul, who paged the emergency vet. Amazing how slowly the minutes pass when you are waiting for that phone call back from the vet. Just to do something, and in case Austin was dehydrated, I begin subcutaneous fluids on him and continued the honey to his gums.
Unfortunately, on call is the one vet we do not know in the group practice but he meets us in 15 minutes at the clinic. Before we leave, Austin begins panting harder, his breathing rate goes up to to almost 100/minute (yes, his respiratory rate, not his heart rate), and he begins a type of gurgling deep in his chest.
If you have ever heard a person or animal in pulmonary edema (fluid on the lungs) you will never forget this horrible sound. I immediately went into denial and think, “Oh, he has inhaled some of the honey and it is blocking his airway.” Austin begins yowling loudly. Obviously, his airway is not blocked.
At the vet, his blood sugar is off the scale high and his breathing worsens. The vet, who is very nice but somehow fails to give either Paul or me a feeling of confidence, confirms my fear of congestive heart failure and pulmonary edema. He gave Austin Lasix, a diuretic, to try and take the fluid off, some digitalis to help his heart beat more strongly, and put him in an oxygen filled cage.
Austin was pathetic at this point, trying to drag his little back legs around, flailing around wildly and yowling in panic. I suggested a small amount of sedation as we do for humans but the vet said this was too dangerous for a small cat. We had to watch him flailing in that glass enclosed cage, scratching wildly at the door, using up what precious oxygen reserves and heart muscle he has. I put my lips to the door and whispered to him, which quieted him for awhile. Finally, we realized that we had to leave or Austin would never be quiet. Although the vet didn’t want us to, I took Austin out of the oxygen “tent” and Paul and I held him together between us. Austin loves to be held like that. We said good-bye, not knowing if Austin would live through the night.
After we got home, I found Paul back in his office, head in hands, crying over Austin. I used to worry that Paul loved only Eugene.
The vet tells us that it is common for cats in congestive heart failure (CHF) to form blood clots that then go down their aorta (the main blood vessel leaving the heart) and get stuck where the aorta splits to go down each hind leg. This blocks the blood flow and causes paralysis in the legs. This is not a typical presentation of CHF in humans and I am a bit confused by why this would happen. Dr. Candace is back on the case this morning, though, and I will have her explain this later.
Austin was breathing better by 5 am the on-call vet told me this morning. Someone brought their dog in at that time with congestive heart failure also, so the vet was back at the clinic. I had wanted to stay with Austin, knowing this vet would leave after watching him for a short time. (There wasn’t anything he could do but look at Austin, and that isn’t a reason for him to lose sleep. And I don’t mean this unkindly, but quite sincerely.) If Dr. Candace had been on, she would have let me stay, but I didn’t want to put this vet on the spot. He has never met me or Paul before. Or Austin, for that matter. I was so afraid that Austin was going to die alone, flailing around in that cold stainless steel cage. The vet was not hopeful about Austin’s recovery.
We are waiting for EKG, xray, and lab results at this time. Candace is being very agressive, giving Austin blood thinners to prevent formation of more clot (why didn’t the vet start that last night?) but she fears this paralysis is permanent. If Austin does have a damaged heart and the paralysis does not show improvement soon, Paul and I have agreed that we will put Austin to sleep. I almost had the vet do it last night. You should have seen the suffering that little cat was enduring. Candace says he is calm now, appears to be in no pain, breathing well. And she says he has to get better because, “He’s my boy.” Now that is the vet you want taking care of your precious pet. Austin does love Candace, so I am sure he is much better already. Poor Dr. Bob, the vet from last night, to get a patient he has never met, and a patient with two very aggressive parents! If I had thought about it, I would have made sure that we had met him previously. Oh, that wonderful hindsight.
Paul and I are being realistic and we fully expect to have to say our final good-byes to Austin within 24 hours.
| I am looking now at that previous sentence with an image of Paul sitting in his office this morning, head in hands, crying over Austin. Of us holding each other in bed, shivering, after we got home from the vet this morning. Of Austin with his little paws around my neck, hugging me. Of our sweet boy, our last boy, going to join his brother at Rainbow Bridge. We always knew Austin would do this within six months of Gene dying, but we hoped he would live forever. Gene passed away 5 1/2 months ago. Guess he is lonely up there without his brother, but I don’t know how we are going to bear it. Looks like Goofy Girl Ripley is going to have to shoulder a lot more responsibility. I can’t believe this is happening so fast. |  |
Austin gives mom a big hug |
3:OO pm 2/18/98
The vet just called. Austin is in pulmonary edema still but much improved, has an irregular heartbeat, and very high potassium. This is from his diabetes being uncontrolled. I am feeling very bad about not buying that glucometer that I have been planning to buy for two weeks.
Austin definitely has an aortic embolism, a large blood clot blocking the flow of blood to his hind legs. His legs are cold, blue, and paralyzed due to lack of oxygen to them. Strangely, he no longer seems to be in pain. Dr. Candace says he is very calm. He is on blood thinners to try to prevent more clots and in an effort to restore blood flow to the legs. He will be treated for 3 days but if no improvement by then, there will be no hope. Dr. Candace has only had 3 cats survive this. Austin has pulled through the impossible before. Please let him again.
Ripley actually came up on the bed to my lap this afternoon and let me pet her and she purred loudly. This only lasted about a minute, but it was wonderful. I really needed some cat comfort. We’ll keep working on her and soon she will be a snuggler, too.
3:15 pm 2/19/98
Went to see Austin yesterday and he looked terrible. Eyes so dark and dull. I took his little Dino with me and rubbed it on him and talked to Austin for awhile and finally he picked up his head. He seemed much better when I left.
Paul went to visit Austin last night and swears Austin moved his tail!
This morning Paul talked with Dr. Candace and Austin has been moved out of the oxygen tent, his blood sugars and potassium are back to normal levels, and he shows some signs of increased blood flow to his rear legs. No movement but some improved color in the nailbeds.
Paul has had to go out of town for 2 days, so I am flying solo. I hope Austin holds on. I am terrified that I have to go to work tonight and there will be no one in town for Austin for almost 12 hours.
People on the Muffin mailing list and on the Message Board have given me so much sympathy, support, and information. It is wonderful. Cindy phoned from New Jersey this morning and told me the latest issue of Cat Fancy has an article on this very problem that Austin has.
Paul and I slept on a towel last night that I will take to Austin for his cage so he can smell us instead of the vet’s towels. He needs frequent towel changes, but at least he will be able to smell us for awhile. I am off to visit again as I head off to work.
4:45 am 2/20/98
Austin’s glucose and potassium are under control but his heartbeat is still irregular. He has been started on a medication, Diltiazem, to control the heart. He is out of the oxygen tent. His back legs are warmer and pinker now but still paralyzed and he is still on blood thinner.
When I visited him yesterday evening, he looked awful, with his head down in a pool of saliva. I had brought in a towel with our smells on it and so I folded it and put it under his head. I rubbed his little dinosaur on him and petted him, but he never even lifted his head up in the 30 minutes I was there. Dr. Candace told me he was better during the day.
He looks awful. His eyes look like Eugene’s did right before he died. I cried and cried while I rubbed and kissed him. I asked Austin to stay alive and promised him he can come home tomorrow. I told him we don’t have to make any decisions until Sunday at the earliest. Dad will be home tonight.
We stop the blood thinner later today and he should come home tomorrow. I hope we don’t have to put him to sleep, but I think we will have to. I keep telling myself that, but in the back of my mind, I keep telling myself that it can’t possibly happen.
Austin is the first cat I ever loved.
Chapter 19, In Which Austin Comes Home
2/22/98
Paul and I went to see Austin yesterday morning and his head was up and he looked so alert! He still wasn’t eating on his own but was swallowing syringe fed food. An EKG showed the heart beating properly. His intravenous heparin had been stopped and he had been switched to oral coumadin with a bridge of subcutaneous heparin shots until his blood is properly thinned by the coumadin.
I scooped Austin out of the cage into my arms and he buried his head in my armpit and began purring. We sat for awhile, with Austin peeking out occasionally, seeing he was still at the clinic, and re-hiding his head! He smelled absolutely terrible despite daily baths since he can’t clean himself or move himself away from his urine or bowel movements. We love him even when he stinks.
| We finally went home, with lots of medicine, and three very happy campers. Austin and I sat on the sofa in front of the fire all afternoon, reading and napping. Paul played Beethoven CDs for us. The weight of the world seemed to fall from Austin’s little shoulders. I had to go to work at 5 pm, but I whispered to Austin that he should do whatever he had to do. That if he had to go, he should do it, but we were there to help him as much as possible. I went to work with a much lighter heart. It all seemed possible. |  |
Austin at home |
Paul called me in tears at 2 a.m., just as my shift was finishing. Austin had just died. I have never had a longer hour drive home. I kept telling myself Austin was not dead. And as I got a few blocks from home, I suddenly didn’t want to be home, as if that would keep Austin alive.
Earlier in the evening, Paul had made up a bed on the floor of the living room, afraid to take Austin upstairs to the bed for fear he would fall off. When I finally got home, Paul was there crying, a notepad beside him. Before he had gone to sleep next to Austin, he left this note for me:
Becky Bob:Austin & I (& probably Ripley) are sleeping on the living room floor. He slept most of the day, but did prop his upper body up & move around a few times.
Austin had all his meds with no trouble. He had some food & water (both X2) with my help. He ate yogurt by himself (X2) after he figured out what it was. I was ecstatic about the yogurt!
Love,
Tex, Austin, & RipleyP.S. Patrick gave Austin yogurt first.
Apparently, Austin was asleep with Paul’s arm wrapped around him. Austin twitched and woke up Paul, reached out a paw and touched him, then gave a big sigh and died. It was 1:50 a.m. EST, 2/22/98.
I called Dr. Candace around noon and told her. She was shocked.
This was so unexpected. We had no time to prepare. I can’t even continue this now.
 | |
The morning Austin died, |
Wednesday, March 4, 1998
Two weeks today since Austin became ill, 10 days since he died. I felt that I was doing pretty well. People have been very sympathetic and many touching emails have arrived, along with virtual and real bouquets, cards, and gifts. Our vet, Dr. Candace, and her family gave us a wonderful children’s book called Cat Heaven by Cynthia Rylant. On one page, God is walking in his garden with a cat on his head. The garden is reminiscent of Gene’s Garden I put in last fall. Ripley, however, absolutely refuses to ride on my head! As a compromise, she is on top of the scanner which is on top of the tall file cabinet and she is peering down at me now.
Once we took Austin for cremation, I started to feel a bit calmer. Then last night my brother mentioned how much he was missing Austin and all the raw hurt came flooding back. If I could just turn back time and have my precious, loving buddy Austin back. I miss him so very, very much. He and Gene are on that garden bench in cat heaven right now though, and I can guarantee it isn’t cold and snowy there!
I dropped Ripley off at the vet clinic this morning for a glucose curve and picked up Austin’s ashes at the same time. Sitting in the kitchen later, all alone in the house, I set Austin’s cremains by me so we could have breakfast together, per our routine. While eating, I was sure that I heard Austin’s meow on the back porch, demanding that the door be opened for him. I laughed, looked at the cremains, then got up anyway and checked the back porch. Empty. I sat down again, but then heard the distinctive jingle of Austin’s tags on his collar. This time I just smiled and told Austin that I love him, too.
Chapter 20, In Which Ripley Goes Forward, Alone
March 19, 1998
I have been avoiding starting this new book of the diary.
It has been almost a month and I still cannot believe that Austin is gone. It was only a year ago yesterday that Eugene was diagnosed with cancer and I was blinded to any other possible tragedies. I know Gener is gone now, but I am shocked that so much has transpired in the last year. Even “Uncle” John, who has taken such good care of our boys each summer, has now been diagnosed with cancer. Fortunately, John is doing well and has an excellent prognosis. I can hardly wait for him to come back this summer and meet Ripley.
I used to wonder if I would lose interest in the Feline Diabetes web site once Austin went to Rainbow Bridge. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would have another diabetic cat!
And what a surprise: Ripley is still not Austin. She is more like Eugene, but not Eugene either. Of course not, I know, but don’t want it to be. I sounded so harsh about Ripley at first. She has now been with us for two months. Paul, who loves all animals unconditionally, seems nuts about her. He was thrilled because when he went to bed last night, hours before me, Ripley came upstairs with him and slept for awhile next to him on my pillow. My brother, Patrick, claims to disdain Ripley but there is a mutual admiration society there. And I am working hard with her.
Today is warm, 60 degrees, and partly sunny. A perfect day for Austin and I to have coffee on the garden bench. Rather than mope too long about that, I decide to put a harness and leash on Ripley and introduce her to the outdoors. So far she has only been on the front and back porches. We don’t know if she has ever been an outdoor cat. She is declawed (front paws) and missing a canine (feline?) tooth, so I worry about her survival skills outside.
Ripley was frightened at first as I carried her to the bench but she jumped down, explored everywhere to the end of her leash, then plopped down on the earth behind the bench – on top of the beginnings of one of my carefully nurtured prize hostas. How cat-like. The plant will be fine, I am sure. I did some weeding while she was contented with the small world allowed by her nylon restraint. There was no fine old cat purring contentedly beside me as I sipped my coffee. There was no sleepy old tabby supervising my weeding. But there was a fine little cat, a beautiful little cat, happy to be outdoors in the spring with mom.
We’ll be doing this again.
April 17, 1998
Of course I can’t expect otherwise when I use the internet to post my diary and my very public web site, but it seems everyone knows that I have been in a blue funk. What I call the whim-whams, just a non-motivated state. And I can’t really figure out why. At least I am getting lots of novels read and lots of gardening, never a bad way to pass the time!
I obviously haven’t updated this diary, haven’t updated the Feline Diabetes site in weeks, and in fact didn’t even turn on my computer for a solid week. Many wonderful internet friends have emailed to find out if all is well. I apologize for not answering, for not updating, but two especially nice messages arrived today and I realized that I must at least write something in the diary. Thank you, all you wonderful animal lovers and friends out there, for caring enough to take the time to ask about the Price-Jagodzinkski menagerie.
Ripley is ruining our reputation at the vet. While Austin and Eugene were much loved, I picked up Ripley two days ago after a day-long stay for a glucose curve. She was brought out by a wary vet tech who said that Ripley was so bad that they were unable to obtain one of the data points at all, even after sedation! I was so embarrassed. And then Miss Ripley, Princess of the Universe, once again took her normal astoundingly smelly dump in her carrier on the way home. Even with the windows and sun roof open, I nearly passed out from the smell.
I am sure that Ripley is reliving horrors of losing her home several times, staying at the SPCA, etc. and that is why she is such a little wild woman at the vet. She is such a sweetheart most times at home. She has become a good little indoor-outdoor cat, playing outside, coming home when I call her. And she will even occasionally sleep on Eugene’s old pillow, by Paul’s head. She now always at least sleeps on Paul’s feet. She rarely bites anymore. I forgot and starting playing roughly with her yesterday, in the manner that Austin and Eugene loved, and she turned around and cried to remind me that this is not her style, instead of biting me viciously as she has in the past. I apologized and hugged her. She even sat in my lap for about 30 seconds and twice has sat on the boys’ garden bench for a few minutes when I put her up there. And she is so very, very smart. I am impressed by that.
We need a few more months to convince her that we love her very much and she has a permanent home now. As soon as she realizes that, we will get her a kitten to keep her company, someone to boss around and to train in her likeness! And maybe this kitty will adore me, as Ripley is definitely Paul’s cat.
Chapter 21, In Which Ripley Is the Princess of the Universe (and of our hearts!)
June 3, 1998
I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. I am no longer angry at Ripley for not being Austin or Eugene. The boys’ memories are still very strong, and the thought of Austin can still move me to tears. Ripley is not a very physically affectionate cat but she tries in her own way, usually by condescending to give up some of her precious time to allow us to rub her back for long minutes. |  |
| Taking time to smell the flowers |
She leaps, she chases bugs, she curls up in the sinks and looks precious, she still only drinks from faucets, she is afraid of the wind, she loves to follow us around. Ripley is a wonderful cat. Now we just need to convince the vet of that!
Today I was speaking with the elderly neighbor who lives behind us. This was our first conversation since last fall and he wanted to know if we had a calico cat. As if on cue, Ripley trots up and gets a formal introduction. Turns out the introduction wasn’t really necessary as Miss Ripley apparently pays regular visits to Herb. She goes to his door, stands on her back legs and yells to be let in, and Herb obliges. He says she then carefully and methodically inspects the entire downstairs of his house then trots upstairs. Herb has never followed her up but says she stays up there about 20 minutes, then comes downstairs and asks to be let out. The routine never varies. He is most amused by this and seems to enjoy her visits. She is a strange little cat.
The elderly neighbor across the street has volunteered to learn how to give insulin shots so that we can go on vacation and not have to board Ripley. Bob is very intimidated with the process, as we all are at first, but he is determined to learn. What a good neighbor. Today is the 11th anniversary of the day we gave a young stray cat to Bob. The cat had been taken in by us but was not overly compatible with our boys so we decided not to keep him. Bob took the cat, named him Michael, and Michael grew to a very handsome and terrific feline, and a best buddy to Bob. A perfect match if there ever was one.