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My poor cat, my baby, has died already, but something about what happened has been confusing me and bothering me ever since. I didn't realize what was happening at the time, and I am afraid that she suffered because of it.
My cat had a long history of health problems, like me, we were both disabled. She survived 2 cancers, and thyroid problems and kidney problems. She died at age 21, but I am afraid that she suffered in her last month because I didn't realize that she wasn't actually eating or drinking. I know you're probably screaming "How could you miss it?! You're a bad pet parent!" And I keep telling myself that too, I am sobbing while writing this. I am not making excuses, but it LOOKED like she was eating and drinking, and my parents swore they saw her eat when I said that I was worried that she wasn't eating. My parents are abusive to me, and gaslight me constantly, so I shouldn't have believed them.
I raised my cat as a baby with an eyedropper, I had to take her in so young so she wouldn't be put down. And through every health problem she would eat from the eyedropper, syringe, or lick pureed food off my finger. In her worse times I fed her every two hours, day and night, just me and her. She thought she was my baby, and was so codependent that she insisted on going with me everywhere, including inside the shower. Before you worry, she spent most of her life pain free, there was no chemotherapy or radiation, just two operations for different cancers about 7 years apart. I found both aggressive cancers in very early stages, thank goodness. And she was very good at taking her medication for her thyroid and kidneys in broth in her syringe as long as I was holding her like a baby- on her back with her head supported by my elbow joint. I was always worried about her quality of life, and she was a real fighter, feisty fluffball too.
In her last year we went on vacation, my parents and myself, and I made sure she went to a kennel with good sitters that took excellent care of her, and knew how to give her her medicine. When I came back they said that the night before I came to get her she had suddenly fallen off her perch and acted a bit more wobbly, but not enough to run her to the emergency vet. She had always been very tiny, she was like half grown kitten size, and fairly thin; so as she got older she was wobbly with a feisty attitude. They told me she might have had a ministroke, so we took her to the vet. The vet said it was possible, but she seemed okay, and they weren't sure, and "she's really old so we don't want to do a lot of tests and upset her." I should mention that if you're not me then she doesn't like you and she lets you know exactly how you rate on her dislike scale- the vet being at "I will kill you all and eat your souls" hatred level. The vets always had to sedate her for any tests that I couldn't hold her for. Once she left my arms it became a huge fight- which was also hilarious because she was missing her lower front jaw from the first cancer, removed from the canines forward and reconstructed at age 2, so she could only gum people instead of bite, and she was so tiny she was like a kitten of doom. But, she would get so angry that people would forget that she couldn't bite, and she didn't know how to scratch, she just hugged with her paws and limbs. She was pure black, wouldn't quit, and full of fire, so people forgot what she was actually capable of. It would enrage her when you recited the Fuzzy Wuzzy rhyme, I don't know why, and she would attack, so I would demonstrate that she couldn't hurt anyone no matter how much she tried by saying that rhyme and letting her attack my hand and wrist. She would give my wrist a death hug, and drewl away on my hand, all while attempting to gnaw it off my wrist without teeth. When we went for general wellness checks I would demonstrate that to any new nurses or doctors to show them she was safe, but they forgot every time she started growling- which was any time they took her out of my arms. I mentioned all that so you understand why I didn't push for more tests when she seemed okay, just a little more wobbly after a possible mini-stroke.
A couple days later, I noticed that no matter how much, or how often, I or anyone else fed her, she always acted like she was starving and she was always dunking her head in the water. I thought she was having trouble seeing the water level, so I used different bowls, bought a fountain, and got food safe silicon rings to float in the bowls to easily see the water. It didn't seem to help, and I realized that she seemed to put her head into her food bowl the same way. It was like she was smashing her face into the food and water and shoving the food around with her face, like she was starving but didn't know how to actually eat it. I asked my parents if they had seen her actually eat, or if she just always pushed the food around with her face- it was hard to measure level of food because she would cover herself in it and then I would have to clean her off- and the other cat was constantly trying to eat the food when I was taking care of her. My parents told me that I was ridiculous, that I was imaging things, and that I was just trying to find something to turn into a problem. When I said I was thinking of taking her to the vet they turned it into a screaming fight. I backed down because they SWORE they saw her actually eat food- which I found out several days later that it was a lie, but by then it was already too late to do anything to really help her. I still tried, I fed her broth with the syringe, and did everything I could, and made my father take her to the vet as I was too sick from my disabilities to go. I even called the vet to make sure that he actually brought her in, and didn't lie about it. They gave us potassium medicine for her kidneys and said that she was old and sick. My father brought her home and they left for a day trip. I kept taking care of her with the syringe and her medications, but she was so sick that she couldn't stand any more, though she was such a good girl that she tried to walk to the litter box. I carried her in and held her up and she peed a little. I was too sick to drive, and I live in the country side, farm land, so there was no way for me to get her to the vet. I called my parents and begged them to come back, that she had to be put to sleep, that I was afraid that she was in pain but wasn't showing it. They told me that they would be back later that afternoon. They didn't come back until late that night, they could have come back immediately, but didn't want to. Honestly, my father should have told me how bad she got while at the vets, and I would have said to put her to sleep then so she wouldn't suffer. Instead they made her wait until the next morning to go to the vet, they wouldn't let me take her to the emergency vet, and even the next day they made her wait while they got coffee before taking her into the vet. She went into a seizures, then a coma and died, all before she got to the vet.
I am constantly haunted by worrying how much pain my poor baby was in before she died, and berating myself for the stupidity of ever listening to or believing my parents. I am trying to learn from this too, so that I will never miss the same symptoms in another pet.
Did the stroke make her forget how to get the food/water in her mouth and swallow it? She was hungry, and trying to eat, but it never seemed to go in her mouth and down her throat- except when I fed her by syringe and put it in her mouth.
Did her kidneys finally shut down because she wasn't getting any water inside her? Was her potassium a higher concentration because she was dehydrated or as a side effect of the kidneys already shutting down? Or was she forgetting how to swallow because her kidneys were already shut down? I was too upset to ask the vet, and their answers other times were always something along the line of "She's old", which is stupid, we don't write off people for being old. The doctors would never say to your grandmother that she was not peeing because she is old- they'd find out what was actually causing it and do their best to help. The same vets also think that it's okay that my other cat has panic attacks at loud noises and pulls out her own tummy fur. They say there's nothing to treat anxiety in animals.
I know that isn't true. I think I need new vets.
My cat had a long history of health problems, like me, we were both disabled. She survived 2 cancers, and thyroid problems and kidney problems. She died at age 21, but I am afraid that she suffered in her last month because I didn't realize that she wasn't actually eating or drinking. I know you're probably screaming "How could you miss it?! You're a bad pet parent!" And I keep telling myself that too, I am sobbing while writing this. I am not making excuses, but it LOOKED like she was eating and drinking, and my parents swore they saw her eat when I said that I was worried that she wasn't eating. My parents are abusive to me, and gaslight me constantly, so I shouldn't have believed them.
I raised my cat as a baby with an eyedropper, I had to take her in so young so she wouldn't be put down. And through every health problem she would eat from the eyedropper, syringe, or lick pureed food off my finger. In her worse times I fed her every two hours, day and night, just me and her. She thought she was my baby, and was so codependent that she insisted on going with me everywhere, including inside the shower. Before you worry, she spent most of her life pain free, there was no chemotherapy or radiation, just two operations for different cancers about 7 years apart. I found both aggressive cancers in very early stages, thank goodness. And she was very good at taking her medication for her thyroid and kidneys in broth in her syringe as long as I was holding her like a baby- on her back with her head supported by my elbow joint. I was always worried about her quality of life, and she was a real fighter, feisty fluffball too.
In her last year we went on vacation, my parents and myself, and I made sure she went to a kennel with good sitters that took excellent care of her, and knew how to give her her medicine. When I came back they said that the night before I came to get her she had suddenly fallen off her perch and acted a bit more wobbly, but not enough to run her to the emergency vet. She had always been very tiny, she was like half grown kitten size, and fairly thin; so as she got older she was wobbly with a feisty attitude. They told me she might have had a ministroke, so we took her to the vet. The vet said it was possible, but she seemed okay, and they weren't sure, and "she's really old so we don't want to do a lot of tests and upset her." I should mention that if you're not me then she doesn't like you and she lets you know exactly how you rate on her dislike scale- the vet being at "I will kill you all and eat your souls" hatred level. The vets always had to sedate her for any tests that I couldn't hold her for. Once she left my arms it became a huge fight- which was also hilarious because she was missing her lower front jaw from the first cancer, removed from the canines forward and reconstructed at age 2, so she could only gum people instead of bite, and she was so tiny she was like a kitten of doom. But, she would get so angry that people would forget that she couldn't bite, and she didn't know how to scratch, she just hugged with her paws and limbs. She was pure black, wouldn't quit, and full of fire, so people forgot what she was actually capable of. It would enrage her when you recited the Fuzzy Wuzzy rhyme, I don't know why, and she would attack, so I would demonstrate that she couldn't hurt anyone no matter how much she tried by saying that rhyme and letting her attack my hand and wrist. She would give my wrist a death hug, and drewl away on my hand, all while attempting to gnaw it off my wrist without teeth. When we went for general wellness checks I would demonstrate that to any new nurses or doctors to show them she was safe, but they forgot every time she started growling- which was any time they took her out of my arms. I mentioned all that so you understand why I didn't push for more tests when she seemed okay, just a little more wobbly after a possible mini-stroke.
A couple days later, I noticed that no matter how much, or how often, I or anyone else fed her, she always acted like she was starving and she was always dunking her head in the water. I thought she was having trouble seeing the water level, so I used different bowls, bought a fountain, and got food safe silicon rings to float in the bowls to easily see the water. It didn't seem to help, and I realized that she seemed to put her head into her food bowl the same way. It was like she was smashing her face into the food and water and shoving the food around with her face, like she was starving but didn't know how to actually eat it. I asked my parents if they had seen her actually eat, or if she just always pushed the food around with her face- it was hard to measure level of food because she would cover herself in it and then I would have to clean her off- and the other cat was constantly trying to eat the food when I was taking care of her. My parents told me that I was ridiculous, that I was imaging things, and that I was just trying to find something to turn into a problem. When I said I was thinking of taking her to the vet they turned it into a screaming fight. I backed down because they SWORE they saw her actually eat food- which I found out several days later that it was a lie, but by then it was already too late to do anything to really help her. I still tried, I fed her broth with the syringe, and did everything I could, and made my father take her to the vet as I was too sick from my disabilities to go. I even called the vet to make sure that he actually brought her in, and didn't lie about it. They gave us potassium medicine for her kidneys and said that she was old and sick. My father brought her home and they left for a day trip. I kept taking care of her with the syringe and her medications, but she was so sick that she couldn't stand any more, though she was such a good girl that she tried to walk to the litter box. I carried her in and held her up and she peed a little. I was too sick to drive, and I live in the country side, farm land, so there was no way for me to get her to the vet. I called my parents and begged them to come back, that she had to be put to sleep, that I was afraid that she was in pain but wasn't showing it. They told me that they would be back later that afternoon. They didn't come back until late that night, they could have come back immediately, but didn't want to. Honestly, my father should have told me how bad she got while at the vets, and I would have said to put her to sleep then so she wouldn't suffer. Instead they made her wait until the next morning to go to the vet, they wouldn't let me take her to the emergency vet, and even the next day they made her wait while they got coffee before taking her into the vet. She went into a seizures, then a coma and died, all before she got to the vet.
I am constantly haunted by worrying how much pain my poor baby was in before she died, and berating myself for the stupidity of ever listening to or believing my parents. I am trying to learn from this too, so that I will never miss the same symptoms in another pet.
Did the stroke make her forget how to get the food/water in her mouth and swallow it? She was hungry, and trying to eat, but it never seemed to go in her mouth and down her throat- except when I fed her by syringe and put it in her mouth.
Did her kidneys finally shut down because she wasn't getting any water inside her? Was her potassium a higher concentration because she was dehydrated or as a side effect of the kidneys already shutting down? Or was she forgetting how to swallow because her kidneys were already shut down? I was too upset to ask the vet, and their answers other times were always something along the line of "She's old", which is stupid, we don't write off people for being old. The doctors would never say to your grandmother that she was not peeing because she is old- they'd find out what was actually causing it and do their best to help. The same vets also think that it's okay that my other cat has panic attacks at loud noises and pulls out her own tummy fur. They say there's nothing to treat anxiety in animals.
I know that isn't true. I think I need new vets.
I agree with everything 
Since you mentioned being disabled and living in the country you may want to research if there is a vet that makes in-home visits in your area for your other cat since she has health issues with anxiety. I also thought this thread that discusses medication for anxiety in cats might have some helpful information for you: 
