Michele and Peeps
Active Member
Hi everyone! I will try to keep this as short as possible, but I am a babbler by nature, and sorting through 15 years of a single cat's life could easily be transcribed to 6 major motion films, 4 encyclopedia size books, and perhaps a merchandising scheme that would rival Jurassic Park's budgeting....
Rob & Harley has been asking me for several months to get back into posting here. I kind of fell out of posting at all internet forums for a lot of reasons... One of them being time restraints. I thought it would be a good idea to tell the story of Peeps (again) and our experiences.
First off, Peeps should be dead. People who don't understand felines, diabetes, or cancer are surprised when I say she is (still) alive. People that understand at least one of these things can't believe Peeps is still alive.
Peeps was born a feral barn cat. The only reason she's spent the last 15 years with me is because when my neighbor kids filled up the huge cat bowl with food in their barn, she wasn't running, she was trying to feed her starved body. I got the "runt" and the "outcast". There hasn't been a moment I haven't loved her.
When she was still very young, we buried her. My neighborhood friend had brought my mom outside to the crushed body of my cat on the side of the road. I was heart broken. I didn't want to believe this was my Peeps. Several hours afterward, while I was sitting at the coffee table coloring a poster (and on some sort of medication my mom had given to me to calm me down - I was pre-teen at the time), I saw my cat run by to the basement. I screamed. My mom later told me that she thought my mind had broken. We found Peeps running around in the basement with our other cat. We had buried a Peeps look-a-like. We had mourned a feral cat, who had probably never known love, or a full belly. My Peeps was alive!
Several years later, she escaped through a window air conditioner unit. She spent 4ish weeks outside. When she finally came to our front door screaming to be let in, she had something in her eyeball. She went from 9lbs to 2.5lbs in that time. The vet told us there was a slim chance she would survive due to the starvation factors. I said my goodbyes. Antibiotics did not help and the eye shrunk to half of it's size and the pain was noticeable. Our vet talked us into removal, and she was also spayed at the same time. Some people call her the "one eyed Peeps" or "pirate kitty". A family friend didn't know her eyeball had been removed for years, and always figured that Peeps was winking at her.
Flash forward a few more years to exactly the first week of 2008. This was 3 months after visiting a new vet where I was told my cat absolutely couldn't have diabetes. She had hopped out of the litter box and left a trail of blood. I was driven to the ER vet that night because of the hysterics. I said my goodbyes. Thankfully, it turned out she had a severe bladder infection with the certainty of diabetes. (I returned to my old vet - deciding that travel ease was trumped by a vet who wasn't a dipshit.) We started vetsulin and no, I didn't hometest... (pause for gasps of horror) 9 months later I found her laying in an unusual position on the floor and treated her for hypoglycemia with Karo Syrup. We took another trip to the ER vet and her low blood sugar was confirmed. I said my goodbyes. She went off of insulin. We had recently done a diet change, and this may have accounted for the honeymoon. I also bought a home testing meter at this time to take control in a situation I originally thought my vet was handling well. (Which she was, but I had gotten too complacent.)
Two years later (April 2010), Peeps began violently vomiting, with blood in it. She wouldn't eat, and every time she would drink - she would vomit it within 15 minutes. I prepared for the worst, but I still cried at the vets office & my vet cried with me. They had done an x-ray and found cancer in Peeps' large intestine. She was vomiting because the swollen area was clamped shut, and nutrients had no where to go. I asked the Dr. if there was anything she could do to make Peeps comfortable while I said my goodbyes over the weekend. Peeps was given a steroid shot and I was told if it worked, we'd see improvement within 24 hours. We saw improvement immediately. I also watched her BGs climb, but decided to do nothing about it at first. I was told by my surgeon that if we opted for surgery for Peeps, it would give her 6-12 good months at the best case scenario. I opted out of surgery because of many factors. I restarted insulin approx 16 weeks after the cancer diagnoses. I was watching her BG to see if I could see the steroids wearing off with a drop in her numbers. My studies on Peeps were inconclusive.
Flash forward - March of 2011. Peeps passed what can only be described as tissue. Best case, we were thinking a piece of her cancer had broken off and landed in the litter box, so off to the vet we went. However many lives this cat has, I don't know - but I said my goodbyes. I went to bed expecting to put her down in the morning. Turns out, Peeps passed a mucus plug, which apparently isn't all that uncommon for older cats, and shouldn't be a surprise with an intestinal cancer cat. So we packed up and went home. Peeps didn't understand the tears of joy that day.
Peeps has recently gotten back to her pre-diabetes grandeur. She is slightly under the pre-diabetes weight, but she was large to begin with. I was able to easily feel all of her ribs, spine, and pelvic bone without trouble (I said my goodbyes along with asking her to get better or give me a definite "it's time" sign during her skinny times.) That is not the case now. I have to comfortably search for these features. Her hair was ratty, dry, and she was tired a lot. She shed this summer in such a copious amount as she was healing that I had to shave parts of her bald due to matting hair. She was looking, acting, and hopefully feeling better.
May 2011- I caught Peeps straining to pee - Peeps is a very private cat about litter box issues, so if you see her doing her business, something is wrong. (I've maybe seen her 7 times in the box, 5 of them being since her diabetes) - She strained to pee on every piece of fabric I owned. So off to the vet we went. I had previously talked to her Dr about getting an updated x-ray, but we agreed that we knew she had cancer and a new x-ray really wouldn't provide any information we didn't have. So when Peeps' bladder was palpitated and my Dr felt what she believed to be a bladder stone, we went through options. I immediately gave her the green light for an x-ray, as it would help to treat one type of stones - the other type could only be treated with surgery, which she knew I was fairly against. We cried together once again. Peeps had developed cancer in her bladder, which was cutting off a huge chunk of her ability to hold fluids. I once again asked for something that would provide her comfort, again, so I could take a few days to say my goodbyes, again. The vet was fairly certain that if we treated Peeps with antibiotics, it would alleviate some of her problems - as Peeps had another severe bladder infection. I isolated her for 12 hours (pushing my luck with a locked bedroom door with two other cats who claim me as slave who throw themselves upon my door), but Peeps went potty once during this time, and she strained what can only be described as "comfortably" compared to the hours she had spent squatting pre-vet visit. Since the anti-biotics, her potties grew considerably from grape sized to normal diabetic sized. The bladder cancer seems to have dissipated after anti-biotics, but we have no updated x-rays as of yet. The x-ray showed that her intestinal cancer has not moved nor grown.
Peeps is not on insulin for regulation. She is on insulin because she is on steroids that raise her bg. No one ever expected her to live this long. I've said my goodbyes to her since her cancer diagnoses far more times than explained in this bio (it has actually become a macabre joke around the house sometimes). Her bg does drop sometimes when she needs a new steroid shot - and it does it drastically. We went from 9 weeks between boosters to 4 weeks, and now we seem to be going back up. Her last shot was given 5 weeks ago, because if I hold off too long, I can see the cancer eating away at her. I am planning on letting it go on a little bit longer because her numbers have been high (we have had a lot of storms & other problems around the house (especially 4th of July fireworks) that really stress her out, so I am trying to be proactive about what her body is doing). I originally re-started her on insulin to provide comfort in her declining health. Yes, her health has been declining, but not at any rate that is measurable by text books or former experiences. The insulin only still happens because I love her and don't want to cause her pain that can be directly attributed to me. I would rather die a thousand painful deaths than ever do something stupid (like not home testing) and hurt her again.
Peeps likes:
blackberry jelly
beef and venison jerky (couldn't care less for duck jerky)
occasionally likes parmesan cheese and roast beef
windows
cat nip (though it makes her an angry cat)
sleeping
beer breath
supervising gerbils when they run in their exercise wheel
dry kibble - she will not eat wet food even when starved
Peeps tolerates:
snuggles
captive birds
diabetes testing
cameras (more on the hate side than tolerates some days)
If there is anything that needs clarification, please ask. Peeps has a long spiral of bad health, and sometimes I do forget to explain things because it is really apparent to me since I lived it.
Rob & Harley has been asking me for several months to get back into posting here. I kind of fell out of posting at all internet forums for a lot of reasons... One of them being time restraints. I thought it would be a good idea to tell the story of Peeps (again) and our experiences.
First off, Peeps should be dead. People who don't understand felines, diabetes, or cancer are surprised when I say she is (still) alive. People that understand at least one of these things can't believe Peeps is still alive.
Peeps was born a feral barn cat. The only reason she's spent the last 15 years with me is because when my neighbor kids filled up the huge cat bowl with food in their barn, she wasn't running, she was trying to feed her starved body. I got the "runt" and the "outcast". There hasn't been a moment I haven't loved her.
When she was still very young, we buried her. My neighborhood friend had brought my mom outside to the crushed body of my cat on the side of the road. I was heart broken. I didn't want to believe this was my Peeps. Several hours afterward, while I was sitting at the coffee table coloring a poster (and on some sort of medication my mom had given to me to calm me down - I was pre-teen at the time), I saw my cat run by to the basement. I screamed. My mom later told me that she thought my mind had broken. We found Peeps running around in the basement with our other cat. We had buried a Peeps look-a-like. We had mourned a feral cat, who had probably never known love, or a full belly. My Peeps was alive!
Several years later, she escaped through a window air conditioner unit. She spent 4ish weeks outside. When she finally came to our front door screaming to be let in, she had something in her eyeball. She went from 9lbs to 2.5lbs in that time. The vet told us there was a slim chance she would survive due to the starvation factors. I said my goodbyes. Antibiotics did not help and the eye shrunk to half of it's size and the pain was noticeable. Our vet talked us into removal, and she was also spayed at the same time. Some people call her the "one eyed Peeps" or "pirate kitty". A family friend didn't know her eyeball had been removed for years, and always figured that Peeps was winking at her.
Flash forward a few more years to exactly the first week of 2008. This was 3 months after visiting a new vet where I was told my cat absolutely couldn't have diabetes. She had hopped out of the litter box and left a trail of blood. I was driven to the ER vet that night because of the hysterics. I said my goodbyes. Thankfully, it turned out she had a severe bladder infection with the certainty of diabetes. (I returned to my old vet - deciding that travel ease was trumped by a vet who wasn't a dipshit.) We started vetsulin and no, I didn't hometest... (pause for gasps of horror) 9 months later I found her laying in an unusual position on the floor and treated her for hypoglycemia with Karo Syrup. We took another trip to the ER vet and her low blood sugar was confirmed. I said my goodbyes. She went off of insulin. We had recently done a diet change, and this may have accounted for the honeymoon. I also bought a home testing meter at this time to take control in a situation I originally thought my vet was handling well. (Which she was, but I had gotten too complacent.)
Two years later (April 2010), Peeps began violently vomiting, with blood in it. She wouldn't eat, and every time she would drink - she would vomit it within 15 minutes. I prepared for the worst, but I still cried at the vets office & my vet cried with me. They had done an x-ray and found cancer in Peeps' large intestine. She was vomiting because the swollen area was clamped shut, and nutrients had no where to go. I asked the Dr. if there was anything she could do to make Peeps comfortable while I said my goodbyes over the weekend. Peeps was given a steroid shot and I was told if it worked, we'd see improvement within 24 hours. We saw improvement immediately. I also watched her BGs climb, but decided to do nothing about it at first. I was told by my surgeon that if we opted for surgery for Peeps, it would give her 6-12 good months at the best case scenario. I opted out of surgery because of many factors. I restarted insulin approx 16 weeks after the cancer diagnoses. I was watching her BG to see if I could see the steroids wearing off with a drop in her numbers. My studies on Peeps were inconclusive.
Flash forward - March of 2011. Peeps passed what can only be described as tissue. Best case, we were thinking a piece of her cancer had broken off and landed in the litter box, so off to the vet we went. However many lives this cat has, I don't know - but I said my goodbyes. I went to bed expecting to put her down in the morning. Turns out, Peeps passed a mucus plug, which apparently isn't all that uncommon for older cats, and shouldn't be a surprise with an intestinal cancer cat. So we packed up and went home. Peeps didn't understand the tears of joy that day.
Peeps has recently gotten back to her pre-diabetes grandeur. She is slightly under the pre-diabetes weight, but she was large to begin with. I was able to easily feel all of her ribs, spine, and pelvic bone without trouble (I said my goodbyes along with asking her to get better or give me a definite "it's time" sign during her skinny times.) That is not the case now. I have to comfortably search for these features. Her hair was ratty, dry, and she was tired a lot. She shed this summer in such a copious amount as she was healing that I had to shave parts of her bald due to matting hair. She was looking, acting, and hopefully feeling better.
May 2011- I caught Peeps straining to pee - Peeps is a very private cat about litter box issues, so if you see her doing her business, something is wrong. (I've maybe seen her 7 times in the box, 5 of them being since her diabetes) - She strained to pee on every piece of fabric I owned. So off to the vet we went. I had previously talked to her Dr about getting an updated x-ray, but we agreed that we knew she had cancer and a new x-ray really wouldn't provide any information we didn't have. So when Peeps' bladder was palpitated and my Dr felt what she believed to be a bladder stone, we went through options. I immediately gave her the green light for an x-ray, as it would help to treat one type of stones - the other type could only be treated with surgery, which she knew I was fairly against. We cried together once again. Peeps had developed cancer in her bladder, which was cutting off a huge chunk of her ability to hold fluids. I once again asked for something that would provide her comfort, again, so I could take a few days to say my goodbyes, again. The vet was fairly certain that if we treated Peeps with antibiotics, it would alleviate some of her problems - as Peeps had another severe bladder infection. I isolated her for 12 hours (pushing my luck with a locked bedroom door with two other cats who claim me as slave who throw themselves upon my door), but Peeps went potty once during this time, and she strained what can only be described as "comfortably" compared to the hours she had spent squatting pre-vet visit. Since the anti-biotics, her potties grew considerably from grape sized to normal diabetic sized. The bladder cancer seems to have dissipated after anti-biotics, but we have no updated x-rays as of yet. The x-ray showed that her intestinal cancer has not moved nor grown.
Peeps is not on insulin for regulation. She is on insulin because she is on steroids that raise her bg. No one ever expected her to live this long. I've said my goodbyes to her since her cancer diagnoses far more times than explained in this bio (it has actually become a macabre joke around the house sometimes). Her bg does drop sometimes when she needs a new steroid shot - and it does it drastically. We went from 9 weeks between boosters to 4 weeks, and now we seem to be going back up. Her last shot was given 5 weeks ago, because if I hold off too long, I can see the cancer eating away at her. I am planning on letting it go on a little bit longer because her numbers have been high (we have had a lot of storms & other problems around the house (especially 4th of July fireworks) that really stress her out, so I am trying to be proactive about what her body is doing). I originally re-started her on insulin to provide comfort in her declining health. Yes, her health has been declining, but not at any rate that is measurable by text books or former experiences. The insulin only still happens because I love her and don't want to cause her pain that can be directly attributed to me. I would rather die a thousand painful deaths than ever do something stupid (like not home testing) and hurt her again.
Peeps likes:
blackberry jelly
beef and venison jerky (couldn't care less for duck jerky)
occasionally likes parmesan cheese and roast beef
windows
cat nip (though it makes her an angry cat)
sleeping
beer breath
supervising gerbils when they run in their exercise wheel
dry kibble - she will not eat wet food even when starved
Peeps tolerates:
snuggles
captive birds
diabetes testing
cameras (more on the hate side than tolerates some days)
If there is anything that needs clarification, please ask. Peeps has a long spiral of bad health, and sometimes I do forget to explain things because it is really apparent to me since I lived it.
