A couple days ago, I met Mike, Jennifer, and their newly-diagnosed diabetic kitty Max. Max had a very rough introduction to diabetes – swinging from ketoacidosis (a life-threatening side-effect of uncontrolled high blood sugar) to hypoglycemia (complete with seizures) in the course of one week. If anyone needed to learn how to test their cat’s blood sugar – and pronto – it was these guys.
When Mike first posted on FDMB, members asked, as they usually do, where he lived. That turned out to be about 10 miles from me, so I got in touch with him and offered to come to his house with a meter kit and teach him how to perforate his cat. I still have a robust collection of meters at the ready, and I’ve poked thousands of holes in my own cat, apparently all the qualifications needed for this educational project.
We scheduled a time, I gathered the supplies, and set out. I did ask about Max’s personality – if he was anything like Isabella, I’d bring protective gear – but Mike assured me he was a sweetie.
And he was. A cute black & white long-haired model, Max was skinny, but seemed none the worse for wear after his ordeal. I introduced him to bonito flakes (on the advice of others on FDMB: make friends with cat before poking) and chatted with Mike and Jennifer about the general routine that I use to test Isabella. After we practiced using the meter on Mike (blood glucose: 99) we assembled supplies in the kitchen and got ready.
I held the wee Max in my lap and poked. Three heads bent close to inspect his ear. Nothing. (Max was completely cooperative.) Mike suggested testing the inner, un-furry side of the ear, and lifted the cat into his own lap.
Poke. Inspect. Ah! A little blood appeared and was sucked up into the test strip, but it wasn’t enough. Quick! Poke again! A bigger bead this time, enough to start the meter on its countdown.
The results of Max’s first test? Blood glucose: 59
OK then! Good thing I stopped by. Jennifer was set to give Max another dose of insulin in about an hour. With a glucose of 59, more insulin probably would have landed Max in the emergency room with his third hypo of the week. I talked to them about the importance of testing before every shot and having a “don’t shoot below” threshold. For instance, if Isabella’s blood sugar tests below 150 or so (a rare event, indeed), I don’t give her insulin. I wait until it’s high enough to justify an injection. They needed a similar plan to give themselves a cushion. They also probably needed to reduce Max’s dose, since he was still pretty low many hours past his last dose.
It’s a lot to take in when you’re new at the diabetes game. It’s even harder when the only message you’ve gotten from the vet is about the importance of sticking to a 12-hour injection schedule and always giving a consistent dose. Here I was, a total stranger, telling them that the meter trumped the vet, and they should listen to me. I think they understood. I hope so.
After I left, I remembered lots of things I forgot to tell them:
~ to give Max a treat after the test (the 59 completely distracted me!)
~ to apply pressure to Max’s ear for a few seconds to reduce bruising
~ that one day, sooner or later, they’d hit the vein and be wiping blood off the walls, cabinets, and floor. (They’ll figure out the importance of applying pressure when the cat is bleeding all over, that’s for sure!)
Then there was the stuff I deliberately didn’t mention:
~how my cat used to scream when I tested, I was so bad at it
~that I wore long pants, long sleeves, and leather gloves to avoid being maimed
~that I used to have to encase my cat in a blanket to get the deed done at all
That’s not the sort of information that builds confidence in the teacher, you know what I mean?
I haven’t heard from Mike or Jennifer since the lesson. Hopefully they’re using the new tools and Max is going great. Hopefully their vet agreed with a lower dose when they reported the 59. Hopefully, hopefully.
I just have to accept that I did the best I could.
When Mike first posted on FDMB, members asked, as they usually do, where he lived. That turned out to be about 10 miles from me, so I got in touch with him and offered to come to his house with a meter kit and teach him how to perforate his cat. I still have a robust collection of meters at the ready, and I’ve poked thousands of holes in my own cat, apparently all the qualifications needed for this educational project.
We scheduled a time, I gathered the supplies, and set out. I did ask about Max’s personality – if he was anything like Isabella, I’d bring protective gear – but Mike assured me he was a sweetie.
And he was. A cute black & white long-haired model, Max was skinny, but seemed none the worse for wear after his ordeal. I introduced him to bonito flakes (on the advice of others on FDMB: make friends with cat before poking) and chatted with Mike and Jennifer about the general routine that I use to test Isabella. After we practiced using the meter on Mike (blood glucose: 99) we assembled supplies in the kitchen and got ready.
I held the wee Max in my lap and poked. Three heads bent close to inspect his ear. Nothing. (Max was completely cooperative.) Mike suggested testing the inner, un-furry side of the ear, and lifted the cat into his own lap.
Poke. Inspect. Ah! A little blood appeared and was sucked up into the test strip, but it wasn’t enough. Quick! Poke again! A bigger bead this time, enough to start the meter on its countdown.
The results of Max’s first test? Blood glucose: 59
OK then! Good thing I stopped by. Jennifer was set to give Max another dose of insulin in about an hour. With a glucose of 59, more insulin probably would have landed Max in the emergency room with his third hypo of the week. I talked to them about the importance of testing before every shot and having a “don’t shoot below” threshold. For instance, if Isabella’s blood sugar tests below 150 or so (a rare event, indeed), I don’t give her insulin. I wait until it’s high enough to justify an injection. They needed a similar plan to give themselves a cushion. They also probably needed to reduce Max’s dose, since he was still pretty low many hours past his last dose.
It’s a lot to take in when you’re new at the diabetes game. It’s even harder when the only message you’ve gotten from the vet is about the importance of sticking to a 12-hour injection schedule and always giving a consistent dose. Here I was, a total stranger, telling them that the meter trumped the vet, and they should listen to me. I think they understood. I hope so.
After I left, I remembered lots of things I forgot to tell them:
~ to give Max a treat after the test (the 59 completely distracted me!)
~ to apply pressure to Max’s ear for a few seconds to reduce bruising
~ that one day, sooner or later, they’d hit the vein and be wiping blood off the walls, cabinets, and floor. (They’ll figure out the importance of applying pressure when the cat is bleeding all over, that’s for sure!)
Then there was the stuff I deliberately didn’t mention:
~how my cat used to scream when I tested, I was so bad at it
~that I wore long pants, long sleeves, and leather gloves to avoid being maimed
~that I used to have to encase my cat in a blanket to get the deed done at all
That’s not the sort of information that builds confidence in the teacher, you know what I mean?
I haven’t heard from Mike or Jennifer since the lesson. Hopefully they’re using the new tools and Max is going great. Hopefully their vet agreed with a lower dose when they reported the 59. Hopefully, hopefully.
I just have to accept that I did the best I could.
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