Meela was a white female blue eye, green eye deaf cat. She was only 9 months old when I had to make a heartbreaking decision to put her down.
Meela was very happy and healthy until the 3rd week of this past March. She started discharging something that I had the vet look at. I thought it was a miscarriage, but it turned out to be Pyometra. This meant emergency surgery to save her life. I wish that's what it did, but it didn't.
After the surgery there started being complications. It was about 4 days later that she started with a fever. She was on a liquid antibiotic that might have aspirated into her lungs causing a secondary infection. It turned out that she was Anemic and her body wasn't producing enough red blood cells. Her red blood score was 18.
The vet told me it was a 50/50 shot but if he could get her on prednisone, it could help her rebuild those cells and she could beat it. He identified the Anemia being an auto-immune disease. He tested her for feline aids and leukemia and both tests were negative. He said there was another disease called FIP that was a possibility, but since there was no test and she didn't really have the symptoms, he didn't believe it was that. So he hospitalized her over a weekend and switched her to another antibiotic.
He called me through out the weekend and updated me. I was scared to death that each time the phone rang it would be bad news about her. She looks terrible and lethargic when she was taken in. Sunday morning he told me that she was eating, hollering and had pulled her iv out..."a bit sassy". I was able to pick her up on Monday which was a week later from the date of the surgery. I was blown away at how good she looked. As soon as she saw me the started meowing and trying to get to me. WIth her being deaf, I was her person.
She did great when she got home. And then Thursday night a week and a half after surgery around 11pm she was lying flat sleeping when I pet her, I noticed that she had peed where she laid while sleeping. This was not normal. Luckily, she had a follow up visit for the next day.
Her blood count was up to 22, which meant that the prednisone was working. But her fever wasn't going down much. It was 106 and the vet managed to get down to 103 after another weekend in the hospital.
This vet was also concerned about her not eating. Strangely enough, I was the only one who could get Meela to eat. I had to coax her at times, but she usually did. I opened up a can of her favorite Fancy Feast and had a small saucer of milk in front of her and she immediately took off eating. The vet was very encouraged and told me that if I can keep her eating it was good and increased her survival changes and the chanced on beating whatever this was.
The fever was the biggest concern. In my mind, I felt if I could keep her eating and drinking, her body would grow stronger and that would help her fight this unknown disease. We arrived home around 2pm and every single hour I went to her and got her to eat and drink right up until 10:30 pm. She seemed to being doing much better and I felt like her fever had gone down or broke.
The next morning (Monday 2 weeks now after the surgery) Meela felt like she was burning up. She still used the litter box, but eating and drinking was so much less than the day before. I thought, "ok, maybe she should just go in for the day for IV fluids and that will help get her to want to eat and drink more."
I called the vet the next morning (Tuesday, April 4th) and they agreed. Luckily it was the same vet had that weekend. She told me to bring her food and they would try to get her to eat throughout the day. I was to pick her up after work and take her home.
In the middle of the day, I called the vet to check on Meela. She said that she still wasn't eating or drinking and was depressed. (She was always depressed being there.) She told me her blood count was back to 18 which was where we started and that the prednisone stopped working (she believed). I was heart broken and crying.
I told her that I had to draw a line in the sand as to when we had to call it if Meela was not going to survive this. She would not tell me if she was or wasn't, but that she wanted to meet with me when I picked her up. I did tell her I was going to take her home and let Wednesday and Thursday be the deciding factor in her getting better. If she was no better, I was going to have to put her down instead of watching her suffer and die.
I was extremely happy to get Meela. But when I got there the vet was in surgery and wasn't going to be out any time soon. My original plan was to go get her and pay at the window and leave. I honestly regret not doing that. But when they brought Meela to me, I thought she looked bad.
She had small amount of blood around her nose. When I wiped it, it was a very small clot. Nothing more came out. She looked depressed. The tech told me it could have been a blood clot coming from her lung. When I held her, her voice was hoarse and she sounded a bit raspy in the lungs when breathing. I felt so bad for her. She hated being there. The tech offered to get me a vet to talk with about her. I held her for the 10 minutes I waited telling her how blessed I was to have her in my life and how much I loved her. And that she could let go if she was tired of fighting.
She stared right into my eyes. The 4th was her 9 month birthday. When the vet came in, he immediately stated that if I was considering putting her down, that it was the right choice because she wasn't going to get better. If the prednisone stopped working, the anemia would kill her. I cried to hard and held her. I know she knew something was wrong.
When he left the room, she wanted off my lap and went from door to door, wanting to leave. I picked her up and sat her in front of me on the table. she kept trying to get into her kennel where her special blanket was. I opened the door and she went in happily "making bread" on the blanket and purring. She then turned around facing me as if to say, "What are waiting for, lets go home"
Then the vet came back and he said he believed she had another secondary infection and that she was on 2 antibiotics and nothing was touching her fever. He then stated he was pretty sure it was FIP and reminded me that it would end in death. I had spend the afternoon looking up FIP and reading all about it. I knew she had the signs. She had jaundice in her ears, wouldn't eat or drink, was somewhat lethargic and lost weight. I told him I was afraid if I took her home that I wouldn't be able to bring myself to bring her back to end her suffering, if she was. He said "you know what the right thing is and out your love for her, you would be doing her a favor".
I ended up agreeing to putting her down. I was with her the entire time. When he took her out to prepare her to be sent home, I decided to read her chart. First of all they gave her a rabies vaccination without my permission or knowledge. The never tried to feed her throughout the day like the promised. The opened a can and left it beside her only 15 minutes after I dropped off the food, which was hours before. I was distraught over this. When brought her back he told me not to feel guilty and to just remember things were only going to get worse for her.
When I got in my car, I lost it. I kept apologizing to her. I had left my phone in the car, which meant that I didn't take the opportunity to talk to anyone in my family for support. I had to bury her when I got home. My husband consoled me, but wasn't real helpful. I cried all night, my kids cried with me because they loved her and wanted her to live, too. I cried myself to sleep that night.
The next morning I called into work. I was no good to anyone. I spent the day researching more about the "what if's". Turns out that I should have taken another day to research this before I knew this was the right choice. I really was trying to look up anything that would indicated I did the right thing.
I know that I didn't ask the right questions. I didn't ask how long she had, if vitamins would work, if I kept giving her the antibiotic they stopped on top of what she already had and if that would increase help in fighting the infection, what about lights for the jaundice. What will happen if I take her home? What If get her eating? Is there a chance she can rebound from the 18 in her blood to get it up again? What other options are there? When will I know if we have to put her down? I did ask if she was suffering and the vet told me "she doesn't feel well".
I acted impulsively and now I regret it and can't change it. Why didn't I just take her home like the tech told me and weigh out my options? Why didn't I think about my family saying goodbye to her? WHY WHY WHY?
I am so heartbroken and can't stop crying about this. I feel like I failed her. I told her I would never stop fighting for her and ultimately I guess I did. Or I feel like I did. All day yesterday I kept saying I made the wrong choice, I made the wrong choice. One more day wouldn't have hurt.
Then I called the vet today to get answers to my questions. I told him how much regret I had. I was just 2 weeks after surgery. He said his concern was the fever never really going down and recently the drop in the blood count. He said death was imminent. There was no way she would beat this. He said it would have taken a miracle, which I would have held out for. He said that the blood in her nose could have meant that she would start bleeding out because her vessels were getting thin.
He said death might not have happened right way and that it could have taken weeks but that she really would have suffered deeply. He said I wasn't selfish and that I put her first. He told me there was nothing more that could have been done.
I still don't believe that and still feel like I failed her. I miss her so, so much that it really hurts. I spend the last 2 weeks with her nearly day and night because of this...nursing her and reassuring her and just loving her.. I miss her. My son has been my rock, telling me that I went up and above for her. Even though I am starting to accept that it may have been the right thing to do, I am so full of grief that it's killing me. I don't know what to do. And advice would be helpful. She was so healthy and young and this never should have happened.
Meela was very happy and healthy until the 3rd week of this past March. She started discharging something that I had the vet look at. I thought it was a miscarriage, but it turned out to be Pyometra. This meant emergency surgery to save her life. I wish that's what it did, but it didn't.
After the surgery there started being complications. It was about 4 days later that she started with a fever. She was on a liquid antibiotic that might have aspirated into her lungs causing a secondary infection. It turned out that she was Anemic and her body wasn't producing enough red blood cells. Her red blood score was 18.
The vet told me it was a 50/50 shot but if he could get her on prednisone, it could help her rebuild those cells and she could beat it. He identified the Anemia being an auto-immune disease. He tested her for feline aids and leukemia and both tests were negative. He said there was another disease called FIP that was a possibility, but since there was no test and she didn't really have the symptoms, he didn't believe it was that. So he hospitalized her over a weekend and switched her to another antibiotic.
He called me through out the weekend and updated me. I was scared to death that each time the phone rang it would be bad news about her. She looks terrible and lethargic when she was taken in. Sunday morning he told me that she was eating, hollering and had pulled her iv out..."a bit sassy". I was able to pick her up on Monday which was a week later from the date of the surgery. I was blown away at how good she looked. As soon as she saw me the started meowing and trying to get to me. WIth her being deaf, I was her person.
She did great when she got home. And then Thursday night a week and a half after surgery around 11pm she was lying flat sleeping when I pet her, I noticed that she had peed where she laid while sleeping. This was not normal. Luckily, she had a follow up visit for the next day.
Her blood count was up to 22, which meant that the prednisone was working. But her fever wasn't going down much. It was 106 and the vet managed to get down to 103 after another weekend in the hospital.
This vet was also concerned about her not eating. Strangely enough, I was the only one who could get Meela to eat. I had to coax her at times, but she usually did. I opened up a can of her favorite Fancy Feast and had a small saucer of milk in front of her and she immediately took off eating. The vet was very encouraged and told me that if I can keep her eating it was good and increased her survival changes and the chanced on beating whatever this was.
The fever was the biggest concern. In my mind, I felt if I could keep her eating and drinking, her body would grow stronger and that would help her fight this unknown disease. We arrived home around 2pm and every single hour I went to her and got her to eat and drink right up until 10:30 pm. She seemed to being doing much better and I felt like her fever had gone down or broke.
The next morning (Monday 2 weeks now after the surgery) Meela felt like she was burning up. She still used the litter box, but eating and drinking was so much less than the day before. I thought, "ok, maybe she should just go in for the day for IV fluids and that will help get her to want to eat and drink more."
I called the vet the next morning (Tuesday, April 4th) and they agreed. Luckily it was the same vet had that weekend. She told me to bring her food and they would try to get her to eat throughout the day. I was to pick her up after work and take her home.
In the middle of the day, I called the vet to check on Meela. She said that she still wasn't eating or drinking and was depressed. (She was always depressed being there.) She told me her blood count was back to 18 which was where we started and that the prednisone stopped working (she believed). I was heart broken and crying.
I told her that I had to draw a line in the sand as to when we had to call it if Meela was not going to survive this. She would not tell me if she was or wasn't, but that she wanted to meet with me when I picked her up. I did tell her I was going to take her home and let Wednesday and Thursday be the deciding factor in her getting better. If she was no better, I was going to have to put her down instead of watching her suffer and die.
I was extremely happy to get Meela. But when I got there the vet was in surgery and wasn't going to be out any time soon. My original plan was to go get her and pay at the window and leave. I honestly regret not doing that. But when they brought Meela to me, I thought she looked bad.
She had small amount of blood around her nose. When I wiped it, it was a very small clot. Nothing more came out. She looked depressed. The tech told me it could have been a blood clot coming from her lung. When I held her, her voice was hoarse and she sounded a bit raspy in the lungs when breathing. I felt so bad for her. She hated being there. The tech offered to get me a vet to talk with about her. I held her for the 10 minutes I waited telling her how blessed I was to have her in my life and how much I loved her. And that she could let go if she was tired of fighting.
She stared right into my eyes. The 4th was her 9 month birthday. When the vet came in, he immediately stated that if I was considering putting her down, that it was the right choice because she wasn't going to get better. If the prednisone stopped working, the anemia would kill her. I cried to hard and held her. I know she knew something was wrong.
When he left the room, she wanted off my lap and went from door to door, wanting to leave. I picked her up and sat her in front of me on the table. she kept trying to get into her kennel where her special blanket was. I opened the door and she went in happily "making bread" on the blanket and purring. She then turned around facing me as if to say, "What are waiting for, lets go home"
Then the vet came back and he said he believed she had another secondary infection and that she was on 2 antibiotics and nothing was touching her fever. He then stated he was pretty sure it was FIP and reminded me that it would end in death. I had spend the afternoon looking up FIP and reading all about it. I knew she had the signs. She had jaundice in her ears, wouldn't eat or drink, was somewhat lethargic and lost weight. I told him I was afraid if I took her home that I wouldn't be able to bring myself to bring her back to end her suffering, if she was. He said "you know what the right thing is and out your love for her, you would be doing her a favor".
I ended up agreeing to putting her down. I was with her the entire time. When he took her out to prepare her to be sent home, I decided to read her chart. First of all they gave her a rabies vaccination without my permission or knowledge. The never tried to feed her throughout the day like the promised. The opened a can and left it beside her only 15 minutes after I dropped off the food, which was hours before. I was distraught over this. When brought her back he told me not to feel guilty and to just remember things were only going to get worse for her.
When I got in my car, I lost it. I kept apologizing to her. I had left my phone in the car, which meant that I didn't take the opportunity to talk to anyone in my family for support. I had to bury her when I got home. My husband consoled me, but wasn't real helpful. I cried all night, my kids cried with me because they loved her and wanted her to live, too. I cried myself to sleep that night.
The next morning I called into work. I was no good to anyone. I spent the day researching more about the "what if's". Turns out that I should have taken another day to research this before I knew this was the right choice. I really was trying to look up anything that would indicated I did the right thing.
I know that I didn't ask the right questions. I didn't ask how long she had, if vitamins would work, if I kept giving her the antibiotic they stopped on top of what she already had and if that would increase help in fighting the infection, what about lights for the jaundice. What will happen if I take her home? What If get her eating? Is there a chance she can rebound from the 18 in her blood to get it up again? What other options are there? When will I know if we have to put her down? I did ask if she was suffering and the vet told me "she doesn't feel well".
I acted impulsively and now I regret it and can't change it. Why didn't I just take her home like the tech told me and weigh out my options? Why didn't I think about my family saying goodbye to her? WHY WHY WHY?
I am so heartbroken and can't stop crying about this. I feel like I failed her. I told her I would never stop fighting for her and ultimately I guess I did. Or I feel like I did. All day yesterday I kept saying I made the wrong choice, I made the wrong choice. One more day wouldn't have hurt.
Then I called the vet today to get answers to my questions. I told him how much regret I had. I was just 2 weeks after surgery. He said his concern was the fever never really going down and recently the drop in the blood count. He said death was imminent. There was no way she would beat this. He said it would have taken a miracle, which I would have held out for. He said that the blood in her nose could have meant that she would start bleeding out because her vessels were getting thin.
He said death might not have happened right way and that it could have taken weeks but that she really would have suffered deeply. He said I wasn't selfish and that I put her first. He told me there was nothing more that could have been done.
I still don't believe that and still feel like I failed her. I miss her so, so much that it really hurts. I spend the last 2 weeks with her nearly day and night because of this...nursing her and reassuring her and just loving her.. I miss her. My son has been my rock, telling me that I went up and above for her. Even though I am starting to accept that it may have been the right thing to do, I am so full of grief that it's killing me. I don't know what to do. And advice would be helpful. She was so healthy and young and this never should have happened.
just these few posts knowing someone else understands my pain really does help. 
