Friday, July 30, 2010

Rainbow Bridge

Zamo and I's first hour together.


Our last hour together

This post will be short because it is extremely sad and we have covered the majority of the situation already.

On July 20th, 2010, Zamo lost his battle with renal failure. When I came home the night of the 19th and found him in the bathroom with water soaking him (probably his fluids that had leaked) and no strength left, barely enough to even get in and out of the small ledge of the shower, I feared that we had reached the point in treatment where enough was enough and there was nothing left to be done except set him free.

I sat with him all night and petted him and told him how much I loved him and how much joy and happiness he had brought me. I wrote him a letter, telling him how the moment he came into my life, I felt a cloud of sadness fall away and how he always made the sun shine on my face. When morning came, I struggled with the thought that this was the last time we would spend a morning together, that this was his last sunrise. I begged myself and God to please let his medicine get here and for it to be able to work instantly and make his anemia go away and give him back his strength and let me be with my baby longer. In the back of my mind and in my heart, I knew that the medicine wouldn't help him, it would only temporarily alleviate the weakness he was suffering from because of the extreme anemia and that it wouldn't start working for about 3 days after we started giving it to him. And worst of all, I knew that it was nothing but selfish of me to try to keep poking and prodding him with vitamins and medicines that would only prolong my time with him, not his enjoyment of life.

We called the doctor and the hardest decision I've ever had to make was made. At 5pm, we would make our way to the office to let Zamo end his suffering. I spent the day with Zamo, lying with him wherever he wanted to be, even taking him outside to lie in the sun and enjoy the outdoors one last time. Our vet is extremely caring and was very understanding with how hard this was for us and made sure that we were able to stay with Zamo for as long as we needed to. Zamo seemed to know why we were there. He seemed more at peace. I held my baby and rocked him and told him how special he is and how much he will always be so close to my heart and how much I love him. The doctor gave him a medicine to relax him and let him sleep and I held my baby while I felt him fall asleep. I held him when he got the final injection and I held him even after I felt his heart stop beating. I couldn't let him go.

It's been over a week now since we said goodbye and it's still so hard to think about losing someone so special and someone who made my life so amazing. The next morning, I woke up to the feeling of him jumping up on the bed and walking up it to my face, like he used to do every morning before he got sick. I was so happy, I opened my eyes and expected to find a purring little face next to mine, ready to lick my nose. But when he wasn't there, I was crushed. That whole morning routine of getting ready for work was impossibly sad. Going into the bathroom and not seeing his shadow appear outside the door, not having him come in and rub against my legs, then jump up onto my lap while I tried to use the toilet, not having to fight him off the toilet paper, all things I wished so much I was doing. Instead I sat on the toilet, hugging a roll of toilet paper and cried.

The more I think about feeling Zamo on the bed that morning, the more I realize that he WAS really there, he was coming to me in spirit and telling me that I made the right decision and that he was happy and free of his suffering and that when the time was right, we would be together again because our love was strong and everlasting. I knew it was ok for me to be so sad, but that I should be happy that I was able to give him such a peaceful and love filled crossing. He was not in pain, he was not hurt, he was not scared, he was surrounded by love and was very much at ease. It was certainly the best way for this sort of thing to happen.

I'm sorry to bring sadness to this silly place, but this is the story of my life and Zamo will always play a big role in it. I miss you little buddy, I always will. You made me complete when I was in pieces. I can't ever thank you enough for that.



R.I.P. Zamo
April 27th, 2008 - July 20, 2010

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Zamo




I know we have done a Zamo post before, but this one is special. Please bear with me as I probably won't be articulate enough to explain everything correctly.

About 2 weeks ago, Zamo started to neglect his food and sleep in weirder placed. He's done this before, especially when the weather changes. Unfortunately, we live in an apartment that doesn't have central air, only the hotel room box style AC in the living room. 10 out of 12 months a year, this isn't really much of an issue, Irvine has a beautiful climate and we live very close to a lake so we get nice nighttime breezes. But in July and August, it's insanely hot.

So when Zamo wasn't eating much, I assumed it was because it was getting to be insanely hot and that he was just adjusting to how to deal with the heat. Then I started to notice that he was dropping weight pretty rapidly and that he wasn't getting better. That's when Boyfriend and I decided it was time to go to the vet and find out what was wrong. I'd done some research and found that his symptoms seemed to suggest he may be diabetic. So when we went into the doctor's office and he showed concern over the size of Zamo's kidney's, I was shocked and even more worried.

A day later after blood work analysis had come in, the bad news hit me: Zamo's kidney's were failing. His creatinine levels were at 4.9, they should usually be in the 1's. We were lucky they were still below 5, as anything above that is severe failure. He was also anemic, at about 20%, and his potassium levels were bad as well. Suddenly options like blood transfusions, ultrasounds, hospitalization, and other scary things were being told to me as to what needed to happen.

Shocked, I knew the first thing to do was to get him into the hospital to start receiving IV fluids and antibiotics. The first day he stayed in the hospital, the doctor said he responded well to the treatments and to bring him back the next day. He had to wear a cone and had an IV catheter in his leg. My sweet baby was so happy to be out of the hospital and he came home and ate and ate. I was so happy to see him returning to a somewhat normal self. He went back for a second full day in the hospital and when I came to pick him up, they told me he'd done even better and that he was free to go home for the weekend. They preferred if he started to decline, that we take him to a 24hr ER hospital, but he should be fine at home. We came back the next day to go over his last blood work recheck and saw that his anemia and his potassium levels had gotten slightly better, but that his creatinine levels had not changed. This was concerning. However, since you "treat the cat, not the numbers" and he had been acting better, they decided it would be best for us to learn to give him subcutaneous fluids at home and oral antibiotics over the weekend. We learned how to use the IV bag and how to properly change needles and how to make sure he got the right dosage. If you have never had to do this, I pray you don't, as it is so scary to have to turn your living room into a mini hospital for your loved one. Especially a four legged loved one. You have to find somewhere that's high enough to hold the bag up so you can get the fluids to drip correctly, you have to make sure to keep your needles and bags sterile, make sure you poke them correctly. Everything about it is scary and so hard to think that you might have to do this for the rest of their lives if they don't get better.

We kept this up for about a week, giving him the fluids and oral antibiotics and things seemed to be moving forward. He got up into bed with us, tore down some toilet paper, ate more regular food, everything seemed to be getting better. We went back to the doctor for one more blood recheck and the doctor said that how he was acting seemed to indicate he would be getting better. Then the doctor called back the next day with his retest results. His creatinine had sky rocketed to 13.7, more than doubling in a week and very much past the 5.0 level of "severe". His anemia was worse, down to 16%, which is where they would start recommending blood transfusions. He was not getting better, he was not going to get better, and we need to make the most of the approximate month we had left together.

I begged and pleaded that there has to be something we can do, he's only 2, he should not be getting problems like this! The doctor was very understanding and seemed almost as upset as I was that it had not been the infection we thought we were dealing with and it was something much worse. We couldn't do much else at this point, an ultrasound would be out last attempt to try to look at the kidneys and see what they looked like, if he had cancerous cysts, something that could be genetic or if there was anything else we had missed. However, the ultrasound would not change the prognosis. The doctor described it as a Hail Mary, but was not optimistic it would change much of anything. The blood work showed that I was going to lose my baby boy. After speaking with my family and to Zamo, we all made the decision to not subject him to more tests and stress and instead to try to make him as happy and as comfortable at home for the rest of his time with us.

So here I am, still shocked and incredibly heartbroken that this beautiful sweet baby kitty who I love with more than my entire heart is going to have to go to heaven much too soon in his life. Zamo is absolutely the sweetest cat, with all the best quirks that make him so special.
He loved to help me around the house. Whether it was cleaning the toilets, doing the dishes or vacuuming, he followed me around and sat right next to me when I did this.
Every morning when I would get up and go to the bathroom, he would come running in from where ever he was and jump up on my lap. I didn't mind sitting on the stupid toilet for 10 minutes because that whole time, he purred and rubbed against me and tried to eat my hair and licked my hands. It was our time.
When he was a baby, he would climb up on my bed with me and sleep on the upper half of my pillow then he would always wake up with my alarm and bound down across my face to make sure I knew he was up and it was time for me to get up too. He never woke me up early, he was content to lie with me in bed and wait until my Blackberry alarm went off, then he would get up, stretch out and walk up to my face where I was trying to read emails and bite the sides of the Blackberry.
He always knew when I was supposed to be home from work, and everyday, he was always there, waiting for me at the front door. He always got up and came over and rubbed my legs and told me how much he loved me and how much he would love it if I would open the windows for him to look out.
He is everything to me. It destroys me to see him not his usual self, even if he's not hurting, it's still not fair. I'm so angry with God for doing this to us. He's just a baby! He doesn't deserve to have any of this hurt in his life. He deserves to live for 20 more years and to be happy and playful and helpful and funny and oh so sweet for all of them. I would give anything to help him and make him better.

The only solace I have is that 2 years ago, a tiny baby kitten walked into my life and we changed each other's lives for the better in so many different ways. We saved each other, we loved each other when there was no one else around to love us. I wouldn't give up my last 2 years with him and all of the love and joy he has brought me to take away the hurt in my heart now. When his time comes, and I pray that it will be a long time from now, I will lose a huge piece of my heart and soul. But I would never trade all of the love and all of the time we've shared to not lose that piece. I don't think he would either.

I'm sorry that I haven't posted in a while, I've had some great things happen in my life and wanted to share them with you all, but now is not the time. Please go hug your furry babies and tell them how much you love them and make sure they know that they are so special to you. I've got to go spend some cuddle time with mine.