Le monde du vieux bandit

Here at casa vieux bandit, not all is well. It’s been almost two months since Katcher was diagnosed with diabetes, and it is still not controlled, though not for lack of trying. Another worrisome issue is that he has a mass under his tongue. He had two, one vanished on the first antibiotics he was on (Clavamox). We had surface samples analyzed, and there are two bacteria, so we switched to an antibiotic that should have an effect (Baytril), although what that effect is in reality is not too clear, even after a good two weeks of treatment. It could be an inflammation, but being diabetic he cannot be given an anti-inflammatory. It could be, and that’s the fear, hiding a tumor, which would effectively prevent the insulin from working (and to confirm the presence of a tumor, we’d need to put him under, which right now is not safe at all because he’s in hyperglycemia). Hoping it’s not, I decided with my (wonderful) vet to try another kind of insulin as of today (Caninsulin, replacing Glargine, in case you care or know about such things). What that means is that I have to keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn’t go into hypoglycemia (which can lead to a diabetic coma; should he become hypoglycemic, by the way, and lose consciousness, honey or corn sirup on the gums should do the trick). It also means I need to prick his ear often to get a drop of blood for the glucometer. Apparently, most people with diabetic cats will not or cannot do this, and they give insulin without even knowing where the cats is at (which could theoretically and very practically send the cat into hypo). Thinking about that scares the hell out of me: when it comes to care, I do everything I’m told. That means that after having had cats for 13 years, I know I can give them pills, injections, ointment, ear drops, I can clean wounds, make glycemia readings, take urine samples, force-feed… basically, I can be a cat nurse when need be, and I can’t understand why anyone would choose to do less (then again, I know I could have been a great nurse, which is not given to everyone. Should anyone be interested, by the way, support me through my studies and I will be a nurse — as long as you get me a house in a very remote region later to work!). All this made my (wonderful) vet say that we deserve to see some improvement, some turn of events. Unfortunately that’s not how the universe works… For now, my boy gets pretty much anything he wants, treats, tub access with dripping water, love, peace, all in good measure. We’ve switched to another food for diabetics as well, and that has been a success: he’d started losing weight again, which was quite scary, since it has an impact on the insulin dosage, but now I’m confident he’ll maintain his weight. That buys us time to find a regimen that gets his diabetes under control. If all goes well, that’s all we need. If a tumor is effectively under there and fudging up treatment, well, that’ll be a whole other story. One I can think of in theory, but refuse to dwell on in practice for now. I love my boy, my boy loves me, and that’s all I care about for now.

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LATER: preliminary news on the new insulin is good. Too early to tell, really, but the first glycemia spot-check showed that he was much closer to normal than he ever was with the first insulin (which, by the way, I am still pissed off was given to him, since it’s not the one my vet uses; the emergency vet made a decision without considering how easy or difficult it would be for me to find that insulin and the proper seringes (very important to use the specifi needles that go with the insulin)). I’ll keep pricking his ear today (giving me a glycemia curb) and see how it goes. He seems in a good mood, though (and with diabetes, mood and behaviour is an important indicator of what’s going on inside the body).

This entry was posted on Saturday, October 13th, 2007 at 11:16 am and is filed under c(h)ats, * in english. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.