I'm Not Sure What To Think...

Okay. I had a fairly decent day, all things considered, until I checked my mail this evening. There was an envelope from Schtoobing's vet. They MAILED me a bill for his final bloodwork and the cremation, and I don't even have his ashes back yet! I have issues with this.

I thought Schtoobing and I were more than just a customer number to these people. They have been very supportive and kind to us all along. I even brought them gifts last week, to thank them for being so good to Schtoobing. I was not expecting something as impersonal as an invoice. I have always paid our bills in person, at the office, so I was expecting to pay the final bill when I picked up Schtoobing's ashes.

Paying the bill is not the issue. It's the fact that I have been calling almost every day for over 2 weeks, waiting to get my baby's ashes back, and they keep saying they are not back. But they send me a bill for cremation anyway??

I'm really upset. I think it was really inconsiderate of them to do this, because they all know me and Schtoobing, and as a vet office, they should be more conscious of people's feelings. They all know that I am really struggling with the loss of Schtoobing, and this feels like a slap in the face.

What do you guys think? Is this how vets usually handle things like this?

Baby Schtoobing

Here is a baby picture of my Schtoobing.

BTW, in case anyone wonders, his name is pronounced, 'Sh-TOO-bing'.

Christmas, 1989:

My Sweet Baby Died 2 Days Ago

Hello. I just found his site yesterday, and am really amazed by the compassion I see here from other pet parents. I'm here because I'm really hurting. I need support and comfort, and I hope I can comfort others as well.

I lost my best friend on Monday, November 13th. Schtoobing was 17 years old. He came into my life when he was a tiny puff of fur...

I had graduated from college right before Christmas, 1989, and had just moved back home to look for a job. I walked in the door of my parents' house, and there was this adorable little grey and white kitten on the floor. He had big green eyes and a black freckle on his little pink nose. Right away, I picked him up and cuddled him. My mother said- don't get attached- we're keeping him for my friend. The kitten is a Christmas present for her 3 boys, and she'll be here to pick up the kitten on Christmas morning. I said, "Awww- he's such a cute little Schtoobing. I think we should keep him." Mom said, "He's not ours, though.". I'm not sure exactly where the name 'Schtoobing' came from- it's kind of a made up word, but also happens to be the name of the captain from Love Boat. It's not spelled the same though. But I digress.

Over the next few days, I played with the little guy and started calling him Schtoobing. He was a real cuddler, and loved to snuggle up and sleep on anyone who would let him. Meanwhile, I was still trying to talk my mom into keeping him. "Mom, he's so little. Those 3 boys are too rough. They need a dog or something." But my mom kept saying, 'We promised we'd babysit, that's all.'

Christmas morning arrived, and I was depressed, knowing that my mom's friend was coming to pick Schtoobing up. He was snuggled in my lap as we got ready to open presents. My parents exchanged looks and handed me a wrapped box. Everyone stopped to watch as I opened it, so I knew it was going to be a good present. Inside the box were several cat toys and a note that said, "The owner of these toys already belongs to you! Merry Christmas!" Schtoobing was mine! The whole story about the friend and the three boys had been made up, so my family could surprise me with this sweet little baby.

From then on, it was him and me. In February, we moved to the arctic coast of Alaska. We lived in an airplane hangar, and then a log cabin on the tundra for 10 years. He was with me through bad jobs, breakups and the loss of my dad. Five years ago, we moved to North Carolina to be closer to the rest of the family. Schtoob has been my confidante and my inspiration. He gave me much more than I can even explain, but I know those of you reading this understand what I mean.

Over the last few years, I had been taking Schtoobing to the vet every 6 months. The vet wanted to keep an eye on his toxin levels for CRF, as they had begun to creep up a little. I put him on the KD food and made sure he always had all the water he wanted. (He loved to drink from the bathtub faucet, and I would go turn it on for him whenever he wanted.) In July, his levels were still ok, but starting to creep a little higher. He was losing a little weight, but not much. The vet said he was a very healthy 16 year old cat. About 6 weeks ago, I noticed that Schtoobing wasn't cleaning his food bowl, like he usually did. I had been giving him supplements in his dry food, and he also got Iams pouches, which he loved. I tried some different canned foods, like Purina One and Hills Science diet, and he seemed ok with those.

One evening, my mom stopped by and said that Schtoobing was looking a little puny, like he was losing weight. I had noticed that too, but thought it was because of the change in food. Schtoob's next vet appointment was for November 18th, but I called and asked if we could come earlier.

I took Schtoobing in and the vet confirmed that his toxin levels were now indicating renal disease. When the kidneys shut down, cats get uremic and won't eat. They start using the fat and muscle stores on their body, and lose weight. The vet prescribed stanozolol, which is a steroid to help what kidney function is left, and to stimulate the appet*ite. He also gave us feline ReBound, which is like pediasure for cats. At this point, Schtoobing was only licking the juice from his wet food, and would take a little ReBound. He continued to lose weight.

I took him back to the vet 2 days later, and they said his levels were even higher. They put him on fluids all day, and told me to bring him back the next day for more fluids. The fluids therapy seemed to help- Schtoob was feeling a little better, and I got him to take more ReBound by syringe. I had been writing down everything he took- believe me, every cc was a little victory. The vet told me to come back again, so they could show me how to administer the subcutaneous fluids therapy at home. Twice a day, 75 ml in each side. They sent us home with an IV bag of lactated ringers, needles and potassium gel. The first time I put the needle in Schtoobing, I was so nervous. I didn't want to mess up and hurt him, but I knew the fluids would help him flush those toxins out and feel better. He was such a good patient. He never got upset, and even forgave me when I accidentally pushed the needle through the other side of his skin, instead of underneath it.

Last week, we went back to the vet. The fluids therapy was working! His toxin levels were down- around the same level as they were a year ago. But he still wasn't eating. THe vet said he was slightly anemic, and that could be affecting his appet*ite. So he prescribed Procrit, 3 times a week. Schtoobing was now able to eat some canned food, mixed with tuna water. He seemed to enjoy that. But he would only eat when I brought the bowl over and put a little food on his mouth so he could taste it. He had had a couple episodes with nausea that were very scary. He would retch, like he was going to throw up, then fall over on his side with his legs sticking straight out. I would pick him back up, so he could vomit, but hardly anything came out because he was eating so little. He was so weak. Still, I thought he was making a little progress.

On Friday, I took Schtoob back to the vet again, and asked if there was something we could give him for his stomach, for the nausea. If we could get the nausea under control, he would feel like eating again. The vet called me with bad news. Since Schtoob had lost so much weight, they were now able to feel a mass in his upper abdomen. A firm, irregular mass, about the size of a hen's egg. "Probably lymphatic cancer." I was devastated. I knew the prognosis for the CRF was not good- but we might be able to manage a few more months of quality life for my baby. But now this. Cancer. Well, no wonder Schtoobing couldn't eat! I figure a tumor that size in a cat would be relative to the size of a bowling ball in a human. How long had the tumor been there? Why didn't I notice it? I gave Schtoobing belly rubs every night before we went to sleep, and I didn't feel it. The vet said it was up inside the ribcage, and that you had to really feel around to find it. He sent us home with a prescription for Reglan for Schtoob's stomach.

We got home and as soon as Schtoob got out of his carrier, he seemed like a different cat. He was sooo weak, and couldn't find a comfortable position to lay in. He would go from side to side, then back to the middle again. His breathing was labored. He would try to sit with me in the chair, but wasn't comfortable there either. I continued to give the fliuds and as much ReBound as I could get him to take. I would find him lying him the bathtub, but he wouldn't drink. He curled up in the bathroom sink for a while, and then I found him lying in the litter box. He had never done that before. Still, I told myself that maybe he was just having a bad day, and all that poking and prodding at the vet's was to blame.

On Sunday, Schtoobing was not better at all. He still wanted to be near me, and would look up at me and purr. I tried to get him to eat, but he wasn't interested in the tuna water thing either. Just a few licks and that was it. I tried syringe feeding, and he took it, but then he was all out of breath. He did get comfortable enough to sleep a few times and I kept praying for God to give me a sign. Please tell me how to help Schtoobing. Is this the end? Should I have him euthanized today? Since it was Sunday, the vet's office was closed. There is an emergency animal hospital, but I didn't want to stress my baby more by taking him out again. Plus, those people didn't know Schtoobing or his history.

So that night, I carefully lifted Schtoobing out of the chair he was sleeping in. He was so bony and fragile. I put him in bed next to me, and tucked the down comforter around him. He looked at me and purred, his eyes were full of love for me. I gently stroked his head and scratched his ears and under his chin. I told him everything was going to be ok, and that his momma loves him so much. I told him that his grandpa would take good care of him until I see him again. He seemed very content, and we fell asleep.

The next morning, Schtoobing was under the bed. I dreaded looking under there, but he was ok. We had a vet appointment, so I showered and got ready to go. Schtoobing came out and laid down next to the tub. He didn't have the energy to jump in for a drink. I petted him and talked to him, like I usually did, and he meowed back- soft little meows. I carefully picked him up and put him in his carrier for the drive to the vet's. He peered out at me as I drove, and I explained that we were going to see if the vet can help his tummy feel better. When we got to the vet's, I told the techs about Schtoobing's rough weekend, and how I was hoping the vet could suggest something. Then I put my hand inside the carrier and caressed Schtoobing's ears. I said, 'Ok- I'll see ya later, Snuggsey' (I had lots of nicknames for him!)

About an hour later, the vet called and said that Schtoobing had passed away. They had just taken blood and were waiting for the results, when one of the techs said, he's not breathing right. Schtoobing was in the cage, and the tech saw him raise up quickly, like he was trying to catch his breath. Then he collapsed on his side and died. The vet said it was probably heart failure, due to the tumor pressing on his organs, and his being so very weak.

It's been 2 days now, and I've been through so much emotion and sadness, it feels like he's been gone forever. My heart and my house are empty now. I cry all the time- in the shower, in bed, in the car, in Target, at my desk. I lost my Dad 12 years ago, and this loss is right on a par with that. Maybe even worse, I don't know. I feel terrible that my Schtoobing died and I wasn't there. I had promised him that I would be there and that everything would be ok, and not to be scared. Now I wonder if he was scared, in a room full of strangers, not knowing what was happening to him and why his mom left him there to die. I am so absolutely shattered. I hear my baby in my house and I call out his name before I can catch myself. His name just echoes off the walls, and then there's nothing.

If you are still reading this, thank you. I appreciate it. If anyone has any advice or wants to share, I welcome it. Just please, don't tell me that the vet or I should have done something different- I'm already doing that to myself enough.

God Bless you guys-
Diane