September 26, 2006
The vet called at around midnight to inform me of the results of Nekko’s blood work. She has feline diabetes. Her body has entered a ketonic state, meaning that there are acids building up in her blood as a result of no insulin. She will be in the hospital for two to three days while they administer insulin and try to get her blood glucose level (BG) under control. Meanwhile I will have to undergo training on administering insulin and testing her blood to monitor BG.
( why does everyone and everything I love die? )
In order for Nekko to live and have a good quality of life I will need to become an expert on BG in my cat. I’ll need to inject her (likely twice daily) with insulin, and prick her ear for a drop of blood to measure her blood glucose level. I won’t be able to go away unless I have expert, trusted care in place to perform these tasks for me. I love my cat dearly, but this is a huge, overwhelming thing to take in all at once.
Michele’s illness curtailed my activities and impacted my lifestyle. At times I was as much a prisoner of her illness as she was. That I am now faced with once again altering my lifestyle in support of one I love is almost more than I can bear to consider.
( how will I find the strength to do this? )
I have been through so much in the past couple of years. Getting the news that Nekko is ill, and will require constant care and attention in order to live, just knocked me flat on my back again. There is only one ray of sunshine in my life right now, and she is making the long drive here to be with me even as I write this.
I know that I am deserving of good, that I am a good man. I know that bad doesn’t seek one person out, that all of these tragedies and setbacks aren’t about me personally. But it is hard not to feel like someone has it in for me.