I'm not exactly sure where to begin with this post. Do I start from the beginning when I brought Jubalee Jujubee, our rescue kitty home almost 7 years ago? Or do I start from the day Juba was diagnosed with Feline Diabetes Mellitus about a month and a half ago.
Well since the title of this blog post inquires, "Special needs" I'll start there.
Juba was officially diagnosed with Feline Diabetes Mellitus, or Feline DM on Easter of this year, 2015. It came as honestly, a complete and utter shock. I couldn't and wouldn't eat for days. Juba remained in the emergency hospital for 4 days, and after many intensive treatments, doses of insulin, and a $4,000 vet bill later, was deemed well enough to go home-with requirements.
Insulin was the first and most important of those requirements. She needed a shot once every 12 hours. Along with the shot Juba also needed close and careful monitoring. By that I mean making sure she didn't crash and ultimately go into what's called "Hypoglycemia" or extreme low blood sugar. So in order to combat the risk of that happening my husband and I decided to purchase a glucometer and "home test" Jubalee ourselves instead of running to the vet's every day and spending more $$.
Realistically speaking that first week after Juba's diagnosis was not the best for me. I was emotionally, physically, and mentally spent. My body went into this "survival mode" and my anxiety was a 24/7 constant fight. I felt like I was a zombie most days, tossing and turning while I "tried" to sleep, making sure Juba's feeding tube stayed in for the first few days of in home care, while testing her blood glucose for fear her numbers would either climb or drop significantly. I have compared all of this similar to caring for a brand new infant, and fortunately, many of my momma friends have told me they believe taking care of a diabetic kitty would be much more challenging. That does make me feel better, and makes me believe I'm not just imagining all this hard work as "easy peasy" to a few folks.
When I get really anxious, or scared, I just quit eating. During all this craziness with Juba I stopped eating for going on 3 days. I got severe headaches, moderate dizziness, and was irritable. I snapped at my husband and was impatient with my parents while they were visiting us during this madness (a planned vacation that was scheduled weeks before.) My husband and parents really had to force me to eat something, and even taking a bite was challenging. Eventually as Juba started to improve, slowly but surely, my anxiety lessened and I started nibbling on food again.
What also spiked my anxiety was every morning, after Juba's morning blood glucose test (to determine her numbers and to find out if she was high enough for insulin) was actually giving her insulin to her. My husband was such a big help in holding her, and just being there for moral support. When he had to return to work, and I had to pull my big girl pants and administer Juba's insulin to her myself, that is where my anxiety really kicked in. I want to make something clear however. I did NOT have fear poking Juba with a needle. I did NOT have fear accidentally poking myself with a needle. I DID however fear giving her what is called a "fur shot" and the insulin not actually going into her body under her skin. Because during the time she was on insulin, it was crucial for her to receive that medication in order for her body to work right and not potentially shut down.
It's been a little over 2 weeks since Juba has been off insulin. And while recently we had a scare when her numbers rose, after seeing the Vet, and getting better numbers today, I am beginning to feel like myself again since the past 3 days have taken a toll on my soul. I don't like saying we have a "Special Needs Pet" in a negative way. Yes, Juba will always be a special needs pet, but the only special needs requirement of her is she can only consume a low carb high protein diet. So when you think about it, Juba needs to consume a "healthy" diet in order for her to keep her diabetes under control and in remission.
I've had individuals ask me what it's like living with a diabetic cat. And honestly, it's really hard for me to answer that. I never stop worrying. There is always a trigger in the back of my head that goes off every day asking myself, "Is Juba eating? Is she using the litter box? How much water has she drank? What was her last BG number? Where is she? Why is she hiding? What time is it?" And so many more questions that run through my head. Yes I worry too much, but is it better to worry too much than to not worry enough?
Someone, a parent, once told me some advice.
"You will never stop thinking, never stop worrying. No matter how wonderful and happy your life is at that very moment. There will always be hard times regardless of how fulfilling and self worthy you create your life to be. But that is what life is about. It's not supposed to be sunshine and rainbows 24.7. There are supposed to be dark moments, to make us treasure the happy ones."
