The Chronic Cat Teaches Another Lesson: Be Vigilant

I don't know if these things happen for a reason or I just notice them for a reason. Either way, it's time to get back on the horse when it comes to taking good care of The Body Chronic....and The Chronic Cat.

For the first time in a long time (long being a month or so), I got pelvic pains with no trigger whatsoever on Friday. I was sitting here at work minding my own business when out of nowhere I realized it felt as if someone was stabbing me in the pelvic region. These pains used to be more prevalent before physical therapy, but having a refresher course in them is not something I had hoped to do. I gritted my teeth for a minute to get through the first wave of pain, and then promptly took my medecine--something I've been forgetting to do as of late. Then on Saturday the pain struck again, just as the mood was about to strike. (Remind me to tell you in depth how being a newlywed and having pelvic issues is rather depressing.)

I didn't think much of this. I'll admit it--complacency usually gets the best of me, whether I notice it or not. So a few pains here and there (and when I say pain, I mean the noticeable pain that stops you from doing something, not the everyday pain people with chronic illness/chronic pain face) isn't usually enough to really strike me as interesting.

Then an accident happened. As I was sitting on the couch on Sunday, Lucy, The Chronic Cat, decided it was time to sit with me, as she usually does when I'm on the phone or the computer. So she jumped up and immediately I knew something was off...then I felt it...and smelt it. Lucy had wet herself. I'd like to say this is the first time this has happened--but this is the third time (and the second time since she's last seen the vet). I used to think she'd just get startled easily, but now I wonder if it isn't something more. So after cleaning her, the couch and myself I got to Googling. Sure enough, spayed female cats are known to have this problem. I'd venture to guess that it's even more prevalent in cats with known urinary tract issues already. I e-mailed the vet and tried to not get too hyped up about it. But I believe that Lucy has one of my problems--pelvic floor dysfunction (something about the cat's anatomy when they get spayed leads to it).

I realized throughout all of this, though, that I've been lax on giving Lucy her meds too. In the rush of life and the unconcious desire to escape The Body Chronic, I've not only let my own health slide, but Lucy's as well. Granted, I don't think Lucy's problem this weekend was directly related to her other issues, but it was a wake-up call.

Sometimes, for those of us in The Body Chronic, it's a helluva lot easier to ignore the signs and even our better judgment and just pretend as if everything were normal. I skip pills more often than I'd like to admit and way more often than I should, but then I complain when I have an issue. I can't have it all--either I treat myself properly or I fall back into the pain that got me here in the first place. The same goes for The Chronic Cat.

I'm happy to say that Lucy has had her medecine for two days in a row now and I have set out my pills for the week in my elderly-inspired-pill-box. It may be a pain, but it's better than being in pain. And I will not let the issue drop again. We're going to find a fix for both of us...even if it's just a patch..and we're going to be consistent.

Or at least we'll strive for consistency and settle for something more than complacency.

The Chronic Cat

After me and my first cat, Spencer, moved out on our own for good for my senior year in college, he started getting lonely during the days. He was used to having another animal around to communicate with. I had a friend whose cat had kittens and it just seemed like the right thing to do to take one of them home and give Spence a friend.

That friend was Lucy.

It turns out that Lucy was destined to be mine from the beginning. I once spent the night at my friend's house while the kittens were quite young and instead of cuddling up to their mom during the night, they cuddled up with me. Lucy still cuddles with me on the couch to this day.

More importantly (and more to the point) though is that Lucy has taught me so much about chronic illness just by being her. See, Lucy has Feline Cystitis and problems with anxiety. Feline Cystitis is basically the same diagnosis as Interstitial Cystitis and is sometimes treated with the same drugs (i.e. amitriptyline) in lower doses.

I remember the first time Lucy had a flare up. I had just gotten back from New York City and was unpacking my stuff when I saw Lucy sitting in my bag that had gone with me. Knowing how much she likes bags I didn't think much of it. But when she left it turns out she had urinated on a (brand new, of course) sweatshirt and there was blood in the urine. After that, things with Lucy got more difficult. I called in a very knowledgeable vet who thankfully makes house calls because I have the most skittish cats when it comes to traveling--not to mention that that would have made Lucy's condition worse. She told me it was a form of cystitis, and that researchers were doing many studies on it as it is akin to interstitial cystitis in humans. Lucy was placed on amitriptyline and over the next few months things went back to normal.

Though Lucy was off the prescription meds for over a year, she still needed certain attention paid to her habits. Wet food was introduced twice a day to ensure that she had enough moisture in her diet. Herbal supplements were tried to see if they helped her pain. Most importantly, though, I realized how much her anxiety aggravated the problem. If I was out of town and she was not visited for a couple of days, her anxiety would be high. She didn't like it when we moved in with my now-husband who is allergic and insisted on a cat-free bedroom and so she pounded on the door relentlessly throughout the night (for which I tried many solutions but only a fan outside the door would work).

About a year after Lucy was diagnosed with Feline Cystitis, I was diagnosed with Interstitial Cystitis. It wasn't so much of a surprise to me as my mother has it, but I instantly knew why Lucy and I had a bond. We knew what it was to have a body that just did not want to cooperate--but only one of us had a voice to express the frustration that situation brings.

Studies have shown the following similarities between Feline Cystitis and Interstitial Cystitis in humans:

• Humans with interstitial cystitis show an increase in sensory nerve numbers in their bladders. Cats with FLUTD show the same thing.
  
• Humans with interstitial cystitis show loss of the mucous bladder lining that should be protecting their bladder tissues from the irritants in urine. Similar findings hold true for cats.
  
• Both humans and cats also have a waxing/waning disease course. In other words, in both species the condition comes and goes recurrently.
  
• In both species there seems to be a stress factor in times of recurrence.

Any time my IC flares up or Lucy's does I feel like we can sense each other's pain in a more acute way than my healthy cat and me do. She'll curl up on me or beside me and try to prevent me from going on the computer or doing anything strenuous and she'll follow me around seemingly to make sure that I'm doing alright. And, like now, when her body flares up, I do the same for her--getting her the medicine she needs, trying new techniques and just being conscientious that she might be in pain.

It's not fun having a Chronic Cat--there's a lot of understanding, patience, and willingness to clean up messes that comes along with it. But in that work lies a connection, a peace, and the impetus to move forward in creating a community of support. So many cats with Lucy's condition are in shelters and rescues and even put down for this behavior--if only people would realize that they could help a cat and reap such amazing rewards, maybe they'd give them a shot.

For me, though, having a Chronic Cat is just a reminder that nature built us, but didn't equip us without flaws and that sometimes a nap in the sunlight on the floor is not laziness, but a treatment program with invaluable benefits.