Today's blog entry is not going to be witty.  (Although, I shouldn't assume that anyone thinks the previous ones have had any wit either).  It's also pet-centric which I know often reads as pathetic and way too personal.

Our cat, Savannah, had a seizure last night.  Savannah has had diabetes for 3 years and has been receiving insulin shots twice a day.  Last summer, she was diagnosed with "funky lung" disease (our name for it).  It's some sort of unknown lung illness in which she wheezes quite a lot.  She has been taking prednisone (sp?) twice a day for that, too.

Our vet says that most cats don't make it a year after a diabetes diagnosis, and he thought she was going to die within days (months at best) after being diagnosed with the lung disease.  Being the Queen o' Kitties, Savannah has beaten all the odds and has actually thrived in recent months.  She's been the healthiest acting I've seen her since the kitty teen years.  (She's 11 years old now).

Yesterday morning, she threw up.  Which if you own cats, you know that is not that unusual.  What was unusual about it was that it didn't look like typical cat yak.  There was no plant matter or fur involved. We weren't sure what to do so we just cleaned it up.  She seemed fine.  3 cats over 11 years, ya see a lot of puke.  Yesterday afternoon, she and I even had a nice kitten cuddle session with loud purrs and her typical strong mews of self-affirmation.

Then, last night when I was just getting ready to go to bed, I heard a cat yakking.  Usually this doesn't happen at this time of night.  I saw Scarlett and Duncan were ok.  I turned the corner and Savannah was lying on her side throwing up the brown stuff again.  I came over and lifted her head and called for Dave.  Then, she started seizing.  I attributed it to her lung disease (which we suspect is cancer), but I felt incredibly powerless and I wanted to do something.  Anything. 

When Savannah first was diagnosed with diabetes I remember reading a web site that said to keep Caro syrup for when (not if) they go into insulin shock.  But they always described  insulin shock as just sitting there staring into space (and for cats, that's different from.....?) Nonetheless, I grabbed the bottle, grabbed a syringe that I thank God I didn't throw away while cleaning Sunday, and squirted some in her mouth.  I felt very stupid and pathetic b/c I didn't think the seizure had anything to do with the diabetes, but I wanted to do something.  I changed out of my pajamas. Dave put on his shoes. We scooped her up in a towel and went to the Animal Medical Hospital.

They buzzed us in the door (locked because of the time of night).  I remember from when we took Duncan in with his urinary tract infection that there was a sign that said to let them know if the animal needs immediate attention.  I said as calmly as I could (not so much) that she has diabetes, she's seizing, she needs to see someone now.  They scooped her out of my arms and called over the speaker "Pet Triage Up Front."  Dave took over all communication at this point because I was a blubbering idiot.  (I'm afraid when we have child injuries/illnesses of how well I'll do.)  He took care of the information, took care of me, and we waited.

Well, she was having an insulin shock seizure.  I did the right thing by giving her the caro syrup (which made me feel slightly less guilty for giving her the insulin that may have caused the seizure in the first place when she didn't have enough food on her stomach after the morning's yak.) The vet was very nice, and took down all the information we could give her.  Things didn't sound good, but of all the really awful things it could be, an insulin seizure was by far the best.

This morning, there is good news and we-don't-know news.  Good news:  she's alert.  She can stand with help, but can't walk (very bad).  But it's not renal failure (yay good). We have transferred her to our regular vet, Dr. W.  One humous thing:  the animal hospital vet (Dr. V) talked with our regular vet.  Dr. V told Dr. W that she had gotten better, but somthing was still wrong.  Some of the signs and readings off the cat weren't typical.  "Oh," Dr. W said, "there's nothing typical about that cat's illnesses that are typical!"  Apparently, Dr. V also told Dr. W that she wasn't sure whether Savannah was in pain or just fiesty because she kept hissing at everyone.  Dr. W reassured her that she always hisses at everyone!  (An aside, Dr. V fairly insisted that we call back tonight and let her know how Savannah is doing.  Of course, that made me cry.)

According to Dr. W, the best outcome is that with some intense babysitting today, Savannah recovers the use of her legs enough to have a "good enough" quality of life to walk around a bit and  poop and pee in the right places.  Dr. W says that what may have happened last night is that she threw a blood clot during the seizure and it is blocking some artery or something like that.  (I don't understand.  Dave had to explain it to me several times.)  The good news is that she was voluntarily stretching her entire body and flipping her tail in agitation.  She has some control "back there."  We still don't know what if anything the yakking has to do with this new thing. (Ulcer from the dog?)

Bleah.  No humor.  No wit.  Just a sad cat lady talking about her sick kitty.   

11:06:03 AM