mialia
Member Since 2018
Today my best buddy is at peace after a short struggle with diabetes and who knows what else. He went peacefully at the vet when it became clear there was nothing more to be done.
Since he was diagnosed in October, he has never been controlled. His numbers have been all over no matter what we did. I struggled and struggled. I'm easily 20K into it. It will take me ages to pay off, but I will always know I fought the good fight. (Though it would be a lie to say I'm not feeling guilty, feeling like I did everything wrong, and feeling as if I could have done more).
Four days ago he stopped eating. He's done this before. I took him in quickly and the test results didn't show anything too off. His WBC was a bit elevated, and like always his liver was a bit elevated, and his thryroid wasn't perfect, but it was all just the other side of normal. They gave us appetite stimulants and some antibiotics. Two days later he still wasn't eating. I was out of town. I asked my roommate to take him in. She called me a few hours later and said, "It's not good". I caught the first flight home the next morning and went straight to the vet. He was a tiny version of himself. They have him on meds and fluids over night but he declined. They were worried he wouldn't make it through the night to see me. His numbers were all over hte place, his WBC very high, and all his organ numbers indicated organ failure.
But he did, and we said goodbye. He's the best cat I've ever had. He was my white shadow, always near me, almost always touching me. I feel like my heart is physically shattered.
The vet said it wasn't the diabetes. He had something else that "we aren't privy to yet". Which we suspected because of the inability to get him stable. Throughout this, hyperthyroid was considered, cancer was considered, I don't know what else was... The vet thinks it was cancer pointing to various lab results and what not. In fact, she thinks the cancer has been there a while and caused the diabetes and finally progressed enough.
I'm mad. I knew there was something else. I even suspected cancer. But for some reason the tests never got run. Mind you, I'm grieving hard right now. I haven't stopped crying, I'm bargaining, I'm angry, I'm exhausted, I'm heart broken.
I want him back. He was my best friend. I don't understand where I go from here. My poor other three cats are redheaded step children tonight. He and I had a special relationship and they all knew it.
I've lost pets before. I know one heals. But I also know the first few days one feels that they will never heal and that is where I am right now. And all the logic in the world isn't changing that.
Hug your fur babies for me tonight.
Since he was diagnosed in October, he has never been controlled. His numbers have been all over no matter what we did. I struggled and struggled. I'm easily 20K into it. It will take me ages to pay off, but I will always know I fought the good fight. (Though it would be a lie to say I'm not feeling guilty, feeling like I did everything wrong, and feeling as if I could have done more).
Four days ago he stopped eating. He's done this before. I took him in quickly and the test results didn't show anything too off. His WBC was a bit elevated, and like always his liver was a bit elevated, and his thryroid wasn't perfect, but it was all just the other side of normal. They gave us appetite stimulants and some antibiotics. Two days later he still wasn't eating. I was out of town. I asked my roommate to take him in. She called me a few hours later and said, "It's not good". I caught the first flight home the next morning and went straight to the vet. He was a tiny version of himself. They have him on meds and fluids over night but he declined. They were worried he wouldn't make it through the night to see me. His numbers were all over hte place, his WBC very high, and all his organ numbers indicated organ failure.
But he did, and we said goodbye. He's the best cat I've ever had. He was my white shadow, always near me, almost always touching me. I feel like my heart is physically shattered.
The vet said it wasn't the diabetes. He had something else that "we aren't privy to yet". Which we suspected because of the inability to get him stable. Throughout this, hyperthyroid was considered, cancer was considered, I don't know what else was... The vet thinks it was cancer pointing to various lab results and what not. In fact, she thinks the cancer has been there a while and caused the diabetes and finally progressed enough.
I'm mad. I knew there was something else. I even suspected cancer. But for some reason the tests never got run. Mind you, I'm grieving hard right now. I haven't stopped crying, I'm bargaining, I'm angry, I'm exhausted, I'm heart broken.
I want him back. He was my best friend. I don't understand where I go from here. My poor other three cats are redheaded step children tonight. He and I had a special relationship and they all knew it.
I've lost pets before. I know one heals. But I also know the first few days one feels that they will never heal and that is where I am right now. And all the logic in the world isn't changing that.
Hug your fur babies for me tonight.
