Unhappy Diagnosis

Today has been an emotional gut-punch for me and Kate. We've both been breaking down into tears since we got the call from the vet. It's hard for me to actually write this, but I'm hoping that - as SF writer Spider Robinson puts it - "shared pain is diminished."

If you read the previous post, you know that Chiral has not been doing well. This morning, the vet called us to let us know that her initial thought that Chiral was suffering from feline diabetes or pancreatitis was incorrect. She has chronic interstitial nephritis.

What that means in plain English is that Chiral is suffering a gradual deterioration of her kidneys. The vet estimates that roughly thirty percent of Chiral's kidneys are actually functional. There is no cure for this condition. She places Chiral's remaining lifespan at 6 months to a year.

Kate and I took this really hard. I'm still breaking into tears when I let myself really think about it. Chiral has been a wonderful cat, so friendly and personable and loving. She is Kate's first pet that she picked out on her own and has been companion to both of us for more than eight years.

I know that there are stages to grief...and I think we're both hitting them all in random rapid-fire right now. I think it's unfair that this is happening to this precious creature, who is still only middle-aged for a cat and never goes outside and is generally kept safe and comfortable. I feel guilty because with Tessa's arrival, we haven't been giving her the attention she's been used to...and I fear that I've been less than patient with her in the last few months. I don't want to believe that this is happening and part of me keeps hoping that the vet was wrong or that I'm having a bad dream and that Chiral will be back to her perky, bouncy self when I next look at her. I wonder how we're going to handle caring for her and how we're going to shore up our emotions for the inevitable. I even find myself wondering if it would be easier to end it now...and then I hate myself for even considering it.

The vet (and I've checked online to confirm this) tells us that Chiral shouldn't be in any pain until the end. At worst, she'll feel run-down, kind of like she has the flu or similar. It's possible that with occasional IV drips, regular water, and regular food, she might be close to her normal self. Right now all we can do is hope.

What frightens us the most right now is that she has no interest in either food or water. We even tried offering her cat treats and applesauce (which she used to love) without luck. Supposedly this is odd behavior since cats suffering C.I.N. and kidney failure in general will drink excessively and urinate accordingly. This doesn't seem to be the case with Chiral. We're trying what we can...but we're scared that if she doesn't eat or drink anything, she might not make it anywhere close to six months.

This is proving really, really hard for us. I feel guilty that I'm grieving over our cat when friends and family I know are losing loved ones...but Chiral is family in her own way and she does (and always will) mean a great deal to us. So, yes, it hurts to try and accept that we're going to lose her prematurely. I'm going to cry about it...and to blazes with anyone who thinks I'm being stupid.

One of the hardest things to accept (aside from the simple fact that her time with us is severely limited) is that there really isn't anything we can do. We can care for her. We can try to make her comfortable. We can and will give her the love and attention she deserves. But in the end, it's going to happen. At this exact moment, I can imagine how I'm supposed to just get on with my day-to-day life when I know in the back of my mind that our furry friend is slowly dying. I just don't know what to do.

I guess for now all we can do is our best for her. She's still with us right now and for the now, that's all that should matter. Deal with tomorrow when it comes. It's just...hard.

If reading this blog post has harmed your own mood, then I sincerely apologize. But thank you for reading this and letting me pour out my feelings. It helps me to cope...at least a little.

Thank you for reading. God Bless you and yours.