"Change, when it comes, cracks everything open."
Dorothy Allen

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


So, Morphie is diabetic. 

He had started peeing EVERYWHERE, so we took him back to the vet, to find out if his kidney disease had progressed.  Instead they found out he has a heart murmur and was likely diabetic. 

I had told the vet last time that money was a very real factor in our treatment options for Morph.  So she very carefully laid out the plans and cut corners as much as she could for us.  They did a urinalysis and blood and came back with yes, he is definitely diabetic.

So, I went in and learned how to inject him with insulin.  His dosage is so small, it takes no time at all.  The vet did mention that I was about the 3rd person she had ever taught to inject that WASN'T crying and the only one whose hands weren't shaking.  I was surprised, because it didn't seem to be that big of a deal.  Especially once she had already injected him with the saline, and the cat didn't flinch, not even a little bit.  The only thing I was dreading was how I was going to inject him, if I was holding down a fighting, hissing, spitting cat.  Instead, he just lays there and purrs. 

I did tell her that I have been through alot of medical procedures for myself and my son, so something like this is a cake walk.  I didn't tell her that I had injected myself daily for 6 months.  After that...this is nothing.

So, we finally got his insulin today from the pharmacy.  They were being super nice and have us an insulin pen, which is very similar to the one I used to use for my own injections.  The problem is, I learned with an actual syringe at the vets.  So I had to figure this new contraption out.  I managed it, with Sawyer screaming and crying in her room because I wouldn't let her "help" and Geoff telling me that he didn't think it was right that this was being done. 

I did ask him to qualify that statement, thinking he meant that he didn't want to do the injections for Morph.  The time to decide between putting him down and injections was 2 days ago, not now, while I have bought the insulin and have the needle in my hand.  He said no, that's not what he meant.  He meant that he didn't think he should even be in the room, and he felt like giving the needles was not something that he could do.

Oh well.  I guess that means it's my new job.  Lucky me, and lucky Morph.  Seriously.

Geoff's job was to wrangle Morph out from under the bed and present him to me.  Next time, I will just scoop him when he is eating.  Once he was up though, he was super calm again, and I did the injection no problem.  I did realize that I didn't leave the needle in long enough, because there was a bead on the end of the needle when I pulled it out.  The directions say you should leave it in for 10 seconds, so I will be sure to do that next time.

All in all, we all did great.  We have introduced litter boxes on all 3 floors of the house, to make sure that Morph always has a place to pee.  I will probably have to take over cleaning them daily, since Geoff tends to procrastinate that until it is horrific.  The vet said the cleaner the box, the more likely he will use it.  So I will get that all set and into a routine tomorrow.

So, for now, our 16 year old wonder cat is still with us, and doing well.  I will keep you posted. 

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "Nurse to my cat."


  1. I seriously have so much pride and respect for you Anita, my strong girl. I heart you xxoo

  2. thanks, doll. It's so nice to hear. <3