Monica

Orlando

Fri, 09 Sep 2022 00:59:15 GMT

I have had two cats who went into kidney failure. It was a long, slow process, during which we could alleviate symptoms and slow it down. By "slow" I mean a couple years.

Orlando had no symptoms. He'd go through phases of not eating much and then a couple days later he'd be back to normal. His bloodwork showed none of the markers that kicked in for Erik and Embla a couple years out. Everything looked fine in an ultrasound earlier this year. That picture was taken two weeks ago.

Last weekend his appetite dropped a lot, but he was drinking and producing output. He was spending more time sleeping in a closet, a new favorite hiding spot. Otherwise he was normal. I consulted my vet, who concurred that I didn't need to rush to the ER, and she saw him Tuesday. He had a bad tooth, it turns out, and she thought that might be the cause, and she ran bloodwork both because he was due and because it was required before oral surgery.

She called yesterday with the lab results and said he was in kidney failure. This was not the long, slow chronic kidney failure with which I was familiar; this was something else. It was possible that he had an infection and that was causing it ("though these numbers are really off the charts"), and on that hope I took him back yesterday (after a long and frustrating search of the house; he did not want to be found). They started him on IV fluids and antibiotics.

This morning he was worse. He could barely stand and wasn't interested in trying. The infection theory was a longshot, my vet said, and even if it were that, treating it would not reverse much of what we were seeing. I went back, held him, and said goodbye. This is always the hard part -- saying goodbye, but also all the self-doubt and what-ifs and did I do enough and am I doing the right thing and... Orlando wasn't fighting it, and I dearly hope I did what's best for him.

I adopted Orlando from Animal Friends in 2012, along with Giovanni of blessed memory. The people at the shelter thought he was about six years old at the time, my vet thought younger, and another vet (more recently) thought older. He had a good (almost) ten years after a rough start in life. That will have to be enough reassurance.

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today I learned (veterinary edition)

Tue, 25 Dec 2018 04:07:05 GMT

Orlando saw an ophthalmologist today because his pupils barely contract and my vet wanted a consultation. He's been somewhat like that since I adopted him six years ago (I've never seen pupil slits), but it's become more pronounced recently. Google had told me that this can be an age thing and it can indicate hypertension. We checked his blood pressure recently to evaluate the latter and got ambiguous results; my vet also says that measuring feline blood pressure is kind of dicey. (They took three readings in one visit, and one of them was not like the other two.)

Things I learned today:

Orlando is almost certainly older than we thought he was. We thought 10ish and are now bumping that up to 12ish.
Iris atrophy is a thing that happens in older cats where the relevant muscles just don't work as well any more. I wonder if that happens in humans too -- never heard of it before. (The ophthalmologist didn't find anything else wrong, though didn't rule out hypertension and suggested rechecking blood pressure, so this is the working theory. His optic nerve and retinas look fine.)
They use the same numbing drops on cats that they do on people, complete with orange dye -- which apparently makes (something) easier to see, but I've failed to retain what the (something) is.
Orlando's ocular pressure is the same as mine was at my ophthalmologist visit on Friday. But mine's the result of glaucoma drugs and his comes naturally. So, no worries there.
He has a tiny cataract forming in one eye -- something to check back on later, but nothing to do now. I giggled at the mental image of Orlando wearing glasses.

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vet visit

Fri, 31 Mar 2017 22:39:14 GMT

Orlando had a couple of teeth pulled today. When I picked him up this afternoon, the vet tech warned me that because of the anesthesia he wouldn't be hungry. I said "Orlando not interested in food??". Orlando said "challenge accepted".

When we got home he raced to where the food dish should have been and glared at me until I corrected that. I gave him a small spoonful, and he gobbled it up and looked at me as if to say "oh, we're doing appetizers now before the entrees? Well, I'm ready for the meal now". So I gave him more and he happily ate it. (And kept it down. :-) )

Overachiever.

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