Cat. Again. The Absolute Almost Worst

A couple of weeks ago there was one of two parties I was looking forward to this holiday season, and cat was grievously ill so I stayed home, Ross came home and we stayed up with cat. We thought she'd got into some bad kibble or something and was high. Likely though, what it was was a wee sugar crash. How do I know? Yesterday afternoon (hours before the second party I'd been looking forward to) she crashed for real. She seemed listless and had the big meows, we found a huge pond of vomit and I reasoned that having nothing in her system for the insulin to work on, she needed sugar. So I stuck a chopstick covered in maple syrup into her mouth and called Ross - of course, when she saw him she perked up and just seemed embarrassed for the mess and display. This "all better - whew" lasted for about an hour. Then she began staggering again so I took her into the kitchen to try to get her to eat. She started walking in counter clockwise circles around me, made one revolution in the middle of the floor on her own and landed on her side. I wrapped her up in a towel to try to elevate her body temperature, which had plummeted, and for a while that seemed to help. Then she started panting - this is not what cats do. Again I called Ross and this time she didn't perk up, didn't seem to register either of us. While I disintegrated into tears my level headed beloved (Ross not cat) phoned her vet and took down the emergency clinic number his voice mail referred us to, phoned them to get directions and we were off.
I cannot recommend the emergency clinic off Yonge and Davenport enough.
She was going into arrest, which if you've never seen involves eye rolling, panting, seizures and the inner eye lid half closing and turning a dark rusty brown. He drove (nimbly and very fast), I progressed to big eyed snotty bawling, and she got really, really cold in my arms. I ran her in while he parked, and one look at her had the receptionist calling out a trauma unit to take her into triage. A vet tech came out immediately to talk to me. They needed a standard non refundable fee to start CPR on her, and would likely need to intubate her, five minutes later and she would have been dead. The standard fee was three times what I had on me and said so; although their regulations would not let them around this I was not made to feel at all bad, the simple fact was there was a limited assortment of treatments they had within my price range and no guarantee that they would work.
They did.
One hour of oxygen, a hot air dryer in the shape of a quilt, a glucose drip IV and vast quantities of oral sugar, she was dazed but able to complain. During this hour, they were compassionate, involved and kept an open dialogue going about what they wanted to do vs what we could do. The receptionist, who was like a grounded earth goddess actually got me laughing and openly refered to us and the other owners in the waiting area as "parents". I looked around at the distracted and concerned people, sipping tea and not talking, all eyes on the main steel door waiting for news. Not one of the owners could bear to make eye contact with each other until they were at the counter checking out their furry (and at one point feathered) charge. To keep her over night, which was safest, would have been over $600 which I just didn't have, so against their best advice they released her to us with some syringes and some detailed instructions. If your cat has diabetes and there is a U after her insulin type, it's an ultra long lasting brand and stays in the system for 24 hours. She would need food or sugar ever hour for at least the next 6 or 7 to get her out of danger. She wouldn't eat, so I used the oral syringes they gave me to force feed her sugar sludge and maple syrup, followed by water. She resisted initially by snapping her jaws shut, then spitting it out, and finally (this is when I stopped as she seemed much improved) by batting my hand and giving me an incredulous look like I'd gone mad. The result of these resistances is that she's sugar coated until I give her a proper bath; the result of my persistence is, well, living cat. Occasionally her body temperature would drop again and I'd wrap her in a heating pad with my hand under it to make sure it didn't get too hot. I learned that inserting a metal chop stick into her mouth between the front teeth and rolling it against her tongue could trigger her swallow reflex, so sliding the syringe of solution along side that and gently squeezing would get some down. As it was a work related event, I sent Ross off the to party...apparently it was awesome. Ice sculptures you could do shots through, the best meal ever, squash put into a form that he liked...he still decided to come home early and she perked up a bit. Even managed to trick me out of my seat by feigning interest in a chair and then hoping on to the sofa while I was clearing the chair for her... Just now, after 4 hours of sleep and therefore not tending the cat, I checked on her and was rewarded with a purr.
Of course, we're broke now. So, anyone who thought they might be getting a non-camp crafted Yule gift, a secondary gift after the party here, or even a sizable card - your gift is that the cat as of 7:33am and counting is alive, okay? And yes, we're cutting her insulin back and taking her to the vets first opportunity we can, keeping a syringe of sugar on hand to hit her with the next time she vomits to ensure there is always something in her system. We will tend and draw out her life for as long as the purrs last. And if anyone was thinking of what to get for us this holiday season, we could really use a drink.