Storm is now well regulated and we have very little in the way of problems with her. She is her old sassy self. She likes to find a high perch and survey us mere mortals from above. She purrs when I give her the shots (she seems to know they make her feel better) and sleeps with us every night. She is happy and healthy. I know that some day I will have to face her departure, but I'm glad that she can be with us a little longer.

I knew it was diabetes before I took him to the vet. It was obvious.

Why did I decide to treat him? Especially when I knew he was suffering? Well, I'm diabetic, and I know the difference between getting no insulin when you need it, and getting even a little bit of insulin back in your system. I had developed type-I diabetes just a year before, almost to the day. (My mom says me and Boots are like ET and Elliot.) Insulin changes diabetes from a death sentence to a mere chore.

I was planning on treating Boots for his diabetes no matter how many people said, "it's just a cat."

HE is NOT "just a cat"!!! He's my baby. He's my furry friend. He's my playing, romping, stomping kitten.

He breaks things. He gets in the way. He walks on the kitchen table.

I love him with all my heart, and I can't imagine life without him.

Insulin is mighty scary. Mostly because it's dangerous if you give the wrong dose. I was willing to check Boots' bg twice a day and adjust his insulin.

Yes, we had some hypo episodes. They were horrible. That's the price you pay for insulin. But I had a lot of help from this board. Boots came through all 3 of them just fine.

It took us a year on insulin to get up the courage to change his diet. When we went over to low-carb, Boots stopped needing insulin. His weight equalized at about 12 pounds (which is just about right for his bone structure).

Boots is a happy, healthy, trouble-makin' cat once again. He purrs and snuggles up to me. He chases and kills toy mice on a daily basis. The mild neuropathy is gone, and he's jumping on counters and the table. He meow-yowls when he doesn't get his way.

I am thankful EVERY SINGLE DAY that I treated his diabetes.

My Dylan was diagnosed (after some months of ravenous eating and losing weight) in November 1996. After panicking over the thought of doing shots, but supported by my wonderful and PATIENT vet, we got him regulated pretty fast (he was only 8 and a half years old at the time) and he regained the weight, and, except for one or two hypo's (one serious, triggered by a dental issue and a drop in his dry food eating) has been happy, healthy, energetic, ornery, loving and generally a great cat for these going-on 6 years. I would ALWAYS tell people to go forward with treatment - and my vet was always clear that we could expect a good result with treatment and even a moderate level of monitoring. I sometimes look at the board and think we are very lucky that he was so responsive and has had so few complicating issues - but his quality of life is obvious to all who see his handsome face and beautiful (tiger) coat and his great interest in all the doings of the household.

Zorro was Ryan's kitty and he was diabetic but we didn't know it. When he got really sick one day and we had to rush him to the ER, he was diagnosed with diabetes, was in full blown DKA, liver problems, etc. Oh, how they tried to save him! And we were so very upset, because we had not had a clue that he was diabetic. Zorro died after 3 days in ICU and my son was beside himself... Zorro is why Ryan wants to be a vet.

Fast forward to 2002, Shutterbug starts doing some weird things and the light bulb went off in my head - gee, Zorro was acting like that before he got sick. So off we go to the vet and I get all freaked out about shots and tests and insulin and hypos and stuff.

Came home, crying and found the FDMB. In 1994, there was no FDMB and treating diabetes for kitties was in it's infancy. Now, for Bug, there was never a question of treating, it was more "I don't know how to do this and what if I make it worse?" My father says I should shoot the cat (he does NOT mean with a syringe) and my son is like "Mom, it's gonna cost a lot of money and while it's nice you're keeping vets in business, ya gotta think about if it's worth it, really..."

Is it worth it? Well, while I certainly wouldn't want to relive the first 6 weeks again, with the hospital stay, the whacking big hospital bill and all the crying and worrying, the roller coaster of up and down (better, worse, better, worse, try this, try that, this works, that doesn't), I know that if I had to, I WOULD do it again, because this little bundle of fur is sometimes the only reason I feel like getting up in the morning.

The FDMB saved my sanity. The folks on the board and Dr. Murphy helped me save my cat - everything I learned about feline diabetes I learned here, before I ever met Dr. Murphy.

And when I come home from work every day to my empty-of-people house (since Ryan has been away at college for 3 years), there is my Bug, greeting me at the door, asking nothing more than to be picked up and cuddled, talking back to me when I tell her about my crazy day, purring through her ear poke and shot, playing games with her food, chasing her catnip mouse and her bizzy balls and snoozing in my lap while I'm on the computer. She's my foot warmer in the winter, my reading companion, my let's sit in the bean bag and veg out watching TV pal (who else would do that with me?), she reminds me to do laundry and clean the house by leaving her little furry fuzzies and hairball upchucks all over the place. If she didn't, there would be no vacuuming or dusting at all LOL! She is my keeper and my little buddy. She is the baby I raised that won't go off to school and leave ol' mom along in a big, empty house - unlike my son :). She entertains me, keeps me company, consoles me, loves me. I get all of that and so much more - and all she asks in return is that she gets her two shots a day, a clean litter box, fresh water and a variety of food choices each day to eat or spit out as she chooses, because HEY! somebody has to be interesting in this house, so it might as well be her.

Do I regret treating her diabetes? Not for a minute. Do I worry a lot? Yup, but I wouldn't be human if I didn't. We have our good days and our bad days... I'm happy to say that after those first rocky weeks, they are mostly good, and she's happy and playful and content. At 13, she's a middle-aged lady, but she's not above playing hide and seek or climbing into a paper bag just to roll around and make noise so I can't hear the TV. She likes to read the paper (but she'd rather sleep on it while I'm trying to read it) and watch the birds on the lake in the morning. She supervises Fiver the Bunny when he comes in the house and immediately notifies me when he's getting out of bounds. I hope that Bug will be around at least as long as my KC was (19 years) and I have ever reason to hope and believe that she will.

It didn't start out easy, I don't think it ever does, because it's overwhelming and scary and worrisome. But if you just take it one day at a time, make a start, start low, go slow, be patient, getting a sugar kitty back to feeling like their old selves again is very, very "worth it." The hardest thing is wanting it to be magic and be all fixed right away, so kitty is better immediately. We are an instant gratification society and impatient and in a hurry... Bug had to get me to slow down for her sake, to stop and think and enjoy the little victories along the way. In her younger years, I would go off for weekends, leaving her alone with her water fountain and her feeder thing and not think twice about it. Now, I work around her schedule and my family and friends understand, so if we go out to dinner, it's always after 7 pm so I can do her shot on time and we go to Saturday or Sunday afternoon movies, so I don't miss shot time (hey and the matinees are cheaper!). They smile when I say "It's time to go home and stab and shoot the kitty." My mom and dad are looking forward to our continued visits and are amused that Shutterbug now has her own suitcase for travelling.

So, if she was sort of a "neglected" kitty in her youth (I mean, I loved her, but the reason I have a cat instead of a dog is because I was able to leave her alone for a couple of days, without boarding and pet sitters and stuff like that), I can't imagine how I could have been so mean to leave her alone all weekend with only the radio for company, because I see how much she appreciates spending time with her mom and it makes me sad to realize that it took diabetes to make me appreciate her presence in my life. We learned a hard lesson with Zorro, but I can't regret it altogether, because it helped me help my Bugster. A lesson learned, no matter how hard it is, is never wasted if you can use it to help somebody else down the road.

Every time I see the "GA" designation show up, I shed tears because all of us know the bond between person and pet, especially if the pet has special needs. Somebody posted that poem "Choosing Tears" one day and I printed it out and it hangs on my wall.... I know that I am choosing tears every time I open my door to another critter, whether it is a fuzzy bunny, a playful kitty, a barking drooler or even a scaly green iguana... and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I took him to the vet I had dealt with since I got Tiger in September 1990. He did blood tests and came back with a diagnosis of diabetes on August 29. I was actually relieved, because I knew it could be CRF, the thought of which terrified me. It never even occurred to me not to treat him. He is my child, and we have been through lots together.

I found this board within the first few days, and it turned out to be life-saving for my boy. It turned out I had a vet who knew nothing about how to properly treat diabetic cats, and worse than that, thought he did know. When I posted that he had Tiger on 7u SID within the first 5 days, I got many, many alarmed posts from many members of this board. The one that I took most to heart was Shirley, who not only told me her story, but recommended another local vet to me (we live in the same city).

FDMB saved my cat.

Ten months later, Tiger is still not fully regulated BUT...

His coat is looking gorgeous, he is back to jumping up on things (thanks to B12), he has regained his attitude, he still at my ankles if I walk past him at night, he insists on having his spot on the bed, and purrs if I scritch his chin in the right place. He also hollers REALLY loud if I am one minute late with food. He tolerates all the pricking, shooting and pilling like a trooper. He loves his new vet (I think he has a crush). He is my cat again, and those first months when he was sick and I didn't know if I was being cruel for putting him through it are a faded memory.

He seemed to be eating well although drinking perhaps more than the others (in the house anyway) The most disturbing thing was his back legs looked weak and stiff, like he had arthritis. He'd also had a few wee wee accidents in the house but we'd moved house only the previous summer and Riff's passing had upset the hierachy somewhat.

The vet did bloodwork (I was praying it wasn't arthritis, of CRF or even cancer.) She rang me with the results, said about the elevated glucose and could drop a urine sample off at the surgery. When she rang again, she said - all was normal, but the glucose. She said - 'don't worry, it's only diabetes!!!'

Within a month of starting insulin, his back legs filled out again. His coat improved, his appetite and drinking became more normal. And we got to the stage were we could inject him in the dark!!!! And my husband conquered his lifelong needlephobia.

It was miraculous really.

Bless him. Each day is lovely with my gentle ginger boy. Even now with the CRF and the fluids, he's so incredibly tolerant of all we have to do. He still waits by the 'testing table' each morning for his breakfast and if we oversleep, will come and meow loudly by the bed.

I don't regret a moment. We're all so very close now and of course we'd do it all again. He's our special boy and as he curls up next to me at night and I rest my hand down his lovely tummy, I thank God he's with us and for all he is.

So when Mischief was diagnosed I was frantic - imagining it was liver disease or thyroid or something worse and I'd have to put her down. I tried very hard not to focus on the fact that was 11-years-old and how old that is for a cat. When the fructosamine came back and announced she was diabetic, I was upset at first - imagining huge costs for insulin, thinking of the gangrene and blindness human diabetics can get - but the vet was ready to get started treating her and assured me cats have fewer problems associated with diabetes than people (I love Dr. Pearce - she's been a wonder!). Now - close to 3 months later - I wonder what I was worried about. Mischief is healthy, she has gained back all of the weight she lost, I can't see her spinal column or feel it when I pet her, and she acts like she's years younger! *-*

We're lucky enough to be on a h*neym**n right now, but her behavior and appearance had improved even before then. It was like getting that sweet little kitten back all over again - and I literally got out pictures to match up her markings and make sure she was the same cat! *-* She is back to living up to her name - playing with all of her toys, tackling my feet when I walk by, and commandeering the gift bag my boyfriend brought my anniversary present in. I know eventually the h*neym**n will end, and that she will eventually have to leave me for the Bridge, but by treating her I've gotten extra time and my happy, healthy cat back. That makes it all worth it. *-*

Murray came from the Lancaster Humane Society in Fort Worth, Texas. He was found in Hurst (where we live) on my birthday (December 5th), and had been in residence at the pound for 2 weeks when my older daughter found him. I resisted, but allowed myself to be taken. Resistance was because in the past six months we had lost my mother, Sarah a 14-year-old Lhasa, Alice Mae Fuzzy Buns a nearly 20-year-old Persian mix, and Moses a 5-year-old red tabby who had belonged to my sister who died mysteriously within our house. Murray is a red tabby, also.

Murray did not come straight to the house, but by way of our vet (now retired) who tested him for everything, and pronounced him a fine specimen. Murr's age was somewhere between 1 1/2 and 2 years old.

Fast forward to October of 2001. Charlie, other Lhasa, and Murray were due their shots, so I got husband to take them to the vet. I asked him to talk to this vet about the fact that Murr was losing weight. New vet (who had bought out old vet) said that Murr weighed about right for his size.

Onward to post Thanksgiving 2001. Now Murr is not eating like the voracious critter he once was, and husband said litter box is full of cement. Mom get lightbulb over head. Husband took Murr back to vet, and the next day we were given diagnosis that he was diabetic. Okay, don't know much about it, but we can handle this. Not a problem. Murr was a member of our family, we loved him and he loved us, and neither Tony nor I would ever consider neglecting one of God's creatures!

The first vet was totally inexperienced with feline diabetes. When she had us go from Humulin N 3.0 units bid to the same 3.0 units tid, I felt the need for more opinions. I requested from vet that we try Humulin Lente, and the next day found the FDMB. Got a question? ask it ... you will get as many answers as there are members of this family.

Now we have a new vet, who is really up to date with fd. He knows what he is talking about. Dr. Wied says that Murray a "brittle diabetic" and that Murr is hard to regulate, is a major proponent of home testing, and I fax my results to him weekly, and if needed his office calls me with his recommendations! He takes the time to explain to me what is going on with Murray, and if an insulin adjustment is needed, explains why. He knows that no one knows Murray like I do, so if I do not concurr, he listens to me.

Murray is very precious to us. He is our baby boy cat, and we would not consider doing anything but the care that we are giving him.

I guess I wasn't short and sweet.

Within about a week, Rocket went from being unable to eat, drink, walk, or recognize me, to doing all those things as well as he ever did! His bright eyes came back. Within about two weeks, I realized that he had probably not been feeling well for months, because he was starting to look and act more like he had as a kitten! Within a month, he was a changed kittycat--his fur was glossy and dandruff-free, he romped around like he hadn't done in a couple of years, and cuddled with me again instead of hiding under the bed. His test-feed-shot routine became just that--a routine!! Like brushing teeth, not like a traumatic medical intervention.

After about five weeks the household was back to normal. If anything, even happier than normal, because Rocket was back to being a total Mr. Sunshine instead of sweet-and-under-the-bed. His sister, who was totally freaked out about his being sick and getting shot & stuck (she attacked him four or five times a day), is now utterly nonchalant. The first time I found them cuddling together again was a wonderful moment.

Maybe the best way to show how life has returned to normal--a few weeks ago I had to go out of town and leave the cats. I dithered over this decision like I was making Sophie's Choice. In the last few hours before I left, I must have changed my mind about the arrangements five times.

This weekend I am going out of town again, and I know just what I'm going to do. No freaking, no dithering, no fear--just regular life again, and Rocket still well taken care of.

Life will return to normal. Chances are, it will be a bit better than it was before the diagnosis, because your baby will be feeling much better. It becomes a fact of life, not the center of life. Hang in there!

18 months later, he's in fantastic shape. He's happy and healthy and we're both busy enjoying every extra moment we have together.

I scanned in some new pics today--one when he just got home from his 3 day stay and then 5 more on the road to recovery. Take a peek at http://groups.msn.com/photosbydeanie starting with the home from the hospital picture on page 2 of Boo's photo album. I think you'll be amazed by the improvements!