Seamus is Sick by Leslie Monk
4 May 2004
Seamus, our diabetic cat is poorly.
I have to log his intake of food and water, so to be aware of any change in that department, and he has been taking less and less food. Yesterday he did not eat a thing.
Called Margaret, his personal vet, who questioned me about his pee and shots. Pee was negative and yes I gave him a shot this morning. Mistake. I should have read the signs, loss of appetite, and concluded that he may be having a hypo. Yes, we were told what to do, but we messed-up.
Margaret told me to give him some, “Honey", two spoons, and to do this “straight away".
Margaret had obviously lost confidence in me, and asked her nurse to repeat these instructions.
"Yes" I said, "Right away".
I got myself a jar of honey, wrapped Seamus in blanket to disable any escape attempt. Offered up a portion of honey in a tiny tiny spoon, was not surprised by rejection of offering., prised open Seamus' jaw, inserted portion of honey, watched honey ooze out of cat and slide onto hairy chin and beyond., give up, and then repeat all of the above, give up once more, and follow Seamus with Kitchen towel in feeble attempt catch copious flow of honey drippings, onto couch and carpet.
Did I administer 2 spoonfuls of honey, yes, but.....
I had a two hour wait until Mrs. Monk would get home from school, with the car, so we could then get him to the vet. I tried to get on with my work. but found myself constantly looking over at the sorry sight of the honeyed cat.
At this stage the honey had successfully oozed onto his chest hair, and I watched as he made a couple of reasonable attempts to lick it off, which I felt was a good thing, but in due course the poor creature simply accepted the matted goo. I kept looking over at him, but I got really worried when he crept behind the couch. and laid there panting.
I could not wait the half an hour before Mrs. Monk got home, I ordered a taxi and I got him over to the vet.
Turned out that he had a temperature of 104, which is high.
2 Antibiotic Jabs and a blood test.
New new-world vet, Shelton sent him home but he says he must return tomorrow.
Joined Seamus and Mrs. Monk in Bed. Seamus laid on my chest as he always does when I first go to bed. I pour a saucer of water and watched him lap the whole thing without stopping.
I poured some more and he drank some more.
After something of a vigil we three fell asleep.
5 May 2004
This morning Seamus continued to lay in the same position. Did not follow Mrs. Monk to the Kitchen. No interest in Breakfast.
Mrs. Monk went to school and I took Seamus back to the Vet.
Shelton took his temperature. Temperature was expected to have improved, but it hadn't. Seamus is kept-in by Shelton for further tests.
I had to sign a release form.
It doesn't look good.
On Shelton's table, Seamus looked up at me imploring me to get him out of there.
He just did not want to be in that place where people like Shelton shove thermometers up his bum.
He normally fights back in these circumstances, but the fight had been knocked out of him.
I call Shelton at the end of the day.
He tells me that tests show no problem with vital organs, but white cell count indicates some kind of infection.
He also tells me that he is a “feisty” character. Apparently Seamus had fought back during evening jabs. I told Sean (another vet), that it is good that he is showing some spirit. (Never mind the scratched up vet. Must remember to apologise to Shelton tomorrow) Seamus has to stay in hospital overnight. Should come home tomorrow. Feeling better now.
It doesn't look good for Seamus. He is now on an intravenous drip and is going to stay that way for at least one more night as an in-patient. We just can't imagine how they do that to a cat
No good news to report. We fear the worse. Still not eating. Margaret thinks that he might not be eating because of his current environment. Wants to send him home but not yet.
8 May 2004
Further blood test this morning which show that his liver is now “within the normal range" We bring him home, but ... ....
15 May 2004
Seamus has a respiratory problem. Seems to pant all the time.
Also he is constipated.
I thought I had seen everything but sitting in the garden we watched him prepare the ground for a poop, the usual digging and scraping and then the squatting and then a special kind of cat straining that featured frantic squeak. But then the giving up and then the walk across the garden for a fresh piece of dirt to prepare and then the squeak, and then the failure to dispatch which he was so desperate to evacuate. We watched four attempts like this and in between each attempt he took a kind of desperate rest for about 30 seconds, panting and somewhat scared.
In fact Seamus was inconsolable and we had no idea what to do. Mrs Monk was as frantic and Seamus and insisted I call the vet.
I am sure that Margaret thought I was quite mad when I explained the problem, which was not so much about how we should help Seamus take a shit, but the bigger problem of his quaking lungs. Tomorrow he will be X-rayed so that they can find out what is wrong.
The Story of Seamus and other cats will be serialised on these pages, but if you cannot wait for the whole story you may read all about it here in one helping.
Seamus is Sick