Stabbing Josie

I seem to poke my cats with sharp objects a great deal. Both Tucker and Neville receive two injections of insulin a day, and, once a month or so, I jab needles into their ears to make them bleed, so I can obtain samples of their blood to read their glucose levels. Now, I have added a new kind of stabbing.

Some of you may recall that my old lady, Josie, had not been feeling well. In fact, she seems improved. I watch her and see that she still halts in mid-motion periodically, but I have determined that this is not confusion, as I first believed but, as some readers of this blog pointed out, probably discomfort, due to aged joints and muscles. I think this came on when I stopped giving Josie joint-medicine. However, that medicine was causing another sort of discomfort for her, and so, weighing the one disadvantage against the other, decided to stop giving her the medicine.

Now, though, the Great White is receiving fluids. They are delivered subcutaneously by syringe and – harkening back to the opening sentence of this entry – needle. Remembering the ordeal that giving fluids was with Cammie, I was reluctant to give them now to Josie. Indeed, the first time I attempted it, this past Saturday, she struggled and cried. It was telling that her protests came not when I inserted the needle but as the fluids were being injected.

A friend, greatly experienced in cat-care, reminded me that she warms the fluid prior to giving it to a cat. I had neglected to do this with Josie, though the fluid was actually room-temperature. Tonight, I warmed it in the micro-wave oven. Considering that appliance’s age, it may have been quicker to rub two sticks together, but it was done; I tested the warmth on my skin, then brought Josie to the operating table (ie. the dining table.) This time, though she protested, her complaints were not vehement, and sixty milliliters were rather swiftly put under her skin.

The needle went in so easily, and there was so little evidence that Josie had received the fluids, that I wondered if I had put them in right. But sixty milliliters of liquid would had to have gone somewhere, and nothing was damp; I think the operation simply went smoothly. The plan is to give her an equal amount twice a week, though this will likely increase, possibly soon.

In addition to this attention, my Chubs is being given a laxative to facilitate her solid waste management; I had noticed that her droppings were small and rather too hard. Fortunately, the laxative dissolves very well in a few ounces of water.

So further medicine – of a very simple nature – and more proddings have been inserted into the cats’ schedules. I expect more to come, too, as their years advance. But I don’t mind. If untroubled rest and a tranquil old age is the result, I won’t mind busying my own schedule a bit.