Life in Dullsville

Since I try to have a new entry in this blog once a week or so, I’ve been searching my brain and my life for something to write about. A couple of weak ideas came up, but nothing that really resonated, which made me mentally complain about how dull things are. My feline diabetes life is currently so routine that it’s unremarkable. But on the drive to work this morning, it dawned on me: Dull is good. Dull is stable. Dull is proof that the cat’s diabetes doesn’t run my life.

The way things are right now is the way things were before Isabella was diagnosed: Predictable. Steady. And so I’d like to offer up my boring life as a testament to those who are new to feline diabetes that it really does get better. Really.

In the early days, Isabella’s disease dominated my days and nights. There was so much to learn. Like how to give shots or what food and treats she should eat. I had to learn a whole new way to shop. Testing her blood sugar was such an ordeal I was literally sleepless with dread -- afraid of being maimed with each attempt, but scared to give insulin without knowing her BG level. I was constantly vigilant about her condition, concerned about hypoglycemia. I worried all day while I was at work.

Gradually, though all the new things became habit. Even the blood glucose tests settled into an easy routine. I found a pet sitter I trust and I’m able to get away without (much) worry. I learned to trust myself when choosing an insulin dose and to have confidence that I’ll know what to do if Isabella does have a problem.

Oh, I’m still vigilant. I still assess how the cat is doing each time I look at her. I’m always aware of where she is in the insulin cycle, if she's eating and peeing normally and if she's smacking Casey around like usual. And I’m nowhere near happy with her blood glucose levels overall. Isabella still trends way too high and no tweaking of dose or timing seems to change that -- so I’m seriously thinking about changing to a different type of insulin. (That ought to shake up the routine a bit!)

Overall though, it’s Dullsville. Boring, blah, same ol’, same ol’, and that equals good news in the land of Feline Diabetes . Newbies, take heart -- if I can get to Dullsville with a ornery cat like Isabella, you can get there too.

Nagged into action

My cat is a nag.

I’m sure most cats are nags. Wanting to go out. Wanting to get fed. Wanting a belly rub. Isabella is a nag in those ways (except the belly rubs; she’ll take you out if you touch her belly. Casey is the belly-rub beggar around here.) and in one other way: she nags at me for her tests and shots.

The routine is to feed, then test and give insulin in the morning before work and in the afternoon when I get home. In the morning (after I’ve been nagged out of bed) I shower while the cats are eating. By the time I’m done, they’re done and Isabella is ready. Since I’ve got to go to work, I stay pretty much on schedule.

In the afternoon, though, I have to entertain myself while the cats eat. I open the mail, check email, change clothes, and lots of times I get distracted and delayed. Delays annoy my cat.

Yesterday I poked about doing this and that, then used the bathroom. As I sat on the toilet, Isabella came in and gave me a look. No noise, no meows, just a look. She conveyed her displeasure with my dawdling as effectively as a pointed glance at a wristwatch. Never mind the hundred times I’ve waited to test her while she cleaned her butt; heaven forbid I should clean my own.

Things being what they are, I apologized to Isabella and hurried to get the testing supplies and insulin ready.

She’s scary when she’s annoyed.