Hello everyone,
I'm new here. I stumbled across this forum while researching aortic thromboembolism online, and have since found comfort and solace in reading about other people's experiences with the heart-wrenching aftermath of saddle thrombus. Two weeks ago I lost my beloved Luna to FATE, and I am still absolutely shattered. I am hoping that sharing my experience will not only help others come to terms with their own experience with the disease, but will additionally aid my own grieving process as well; my mind simply keeps looping the entire situation over and over in attempt to make sense of it, and I feel like I really do need to get it down into words in order to accept and eventually move on from what has happened.
At the age of 17, I was living with my mother and sister on the south coast of England, and we already had a gorgeous tabby cat named Wham, who had just turned five at the time. A neighbour of ours had two cats, who had just produced a litter in the October of 2012. They had made the most beautiful little kittens, all either ginger and black... except one. A mix of everything, the runt of the litter - our little Luna.
Everyone was just desperate to get their hands on the kittens, and it was our little tortoiseshell baby that was left. My neighbour really struggled to find her a home, and my mother agreed to adopt the kitten. My sister and I were so unbelievably thrilled, and we fell in love with her from the moment we laid eyes on her. She was truly the strangest - but consequently the cutest - little thing I had ever seen (most predominantly due to the unusual markings she had on her face), and we were instantly inseparable.
I moved away to go to university in London when I was 18, and there was absolutely no way in hell that she wasn't coming with me. I moved in with my partner of two years, and he grew to adore her just as much as I did. At this point, we had developed a bond that was utterly unparalleled, and she was truly my rock and my comfort through the past three years, in which I have been away from all my family and friends on the south coast. She was my best friend and the light of my life, and she always knew when I needed her most. I have truly never experienced a friendship quite like it.
I finished university in May, and was looking forward to spending some time unwinding with Luna before I started my more permanent job in September. Wham had since moved up to London to also live with us due to family circumstances, and the four of us developed a family structure that had once appeared absolutely unbreakable. Until the 7th of August, 2017.
It was an absolutely ordinary day. We had been playing with Luna the previous night; she was messing around with us while we were trying to change the duvet covers on our bed (in true Luna fashion - she was just so playful and energetic), and she slept by my side most of the night. We woke up in the morning and I sat down on the sofa with her while I planned the week ahead. She was purring away, lovingly looking up at me with her googly green eyes, kneading my leg and brushing her head against my hand while I attempted to move the mouse of my laptop. There was absolutely no signs that anything was wrong. She appeared dissatisfied with the amount of attention she was getting, so she moved over to another chair and sat there for about half an hour.
She jumped back over to the spot where I was sat, and almost just fell into a perfect little nook in the throw sat next to me. I cooed at her for a minute, thinking that it was cute - still not noticing anything out of the ordinary. It then appeared that she began retching, almost, like she had a hairball. I ran out into the kitchen and grabbed some kitchen paper, just in case. When I came back, her breathing had quickened, and her eyes had glazed with a sense of panic. Many of the threads I have read concerning saddle thrombus depict the sense of 'terror' that they could see in their beloved companion's eyes, and I know exactly what they mean. It is absolutely heartbreaking and earth-shattering to see, but it immediately notified me that something was extremely wrong.
She began meowing - it was loud, alarmed - like even she didn't know what was happening. She attempted to get up, and that's when I noticed that she couldn't use her back legs. I was immediately overcome with fear, and everything that came next is a blur. It seemed like my body just went into automatic, and somehow I knew exactly what I had to do.
I got her in her carrier right away and (literally) ran her to the vets. I thank my lucky stars that there is a vets that is a 3 minute walk from my home, and she was seen to as soon as I got her there. The vet inspected her, and seemed somewhat unsure about the diagnosis at first. She said that there was still resistance in her legs, still warmth. I was told to go home while they gave her painkillers, x-rays and ultrasounds in attempt to figure out what was wrong. I was completely unaware of aortic thromboembolism in cats, so returned home confused, frightened and in a state of utter shock.
My partner came home from work and we received a call from the vets telling us that she had lost the 'pain' in her back legs, which I automatically assumed was a good thing. It wasn't until they explained further that I realised she had lost the feeling in her legs, and that they had gone cold. They told us that she had heart disease, which completely knocked us for six. Heart disease? Our little bundle of energy, our happy and healthy baby... had heart disease? Apparently it is almost impossible to detect, but we were still so overwhelmed by shock. There were absolutely no signs.
They told us that this heart condition produced blood clots, and that one had subsequently got caught in her abdomen and had prevented the blood flow to her hind legs, rendering them completely unusable. They told us that they could either attempt treatment (adding that the outcome isn't guaranteed, and that there is great possibility it could happen again in the future is she did pull through the procedures), or we could put her to sleep. This was not a possibility for me. I told them to continue with the treatment. Anything to get my baby back in my arms.
We had another call about half an hour later, asking us to go down to the vets to have a chat and to see Luna. I immediately knew this wasn't a good sign. As we sat in the waiting area, I could hear her cries of pain. We went in the room and she was laid on the table, hooked up to a machine that was monitoring her heart rate, and she had blankets covering her back legs. Her breathing had gone rattly. I tried to comfort her and she calmed down a little, however it was still clear she was in agony. I had never heard her meow like that.
The vet basically told us that the survival rate of the treatment was extremely low, and that even if Luna did pull through, she would be on life-long medication and would be highly at risk and developing other clots that would consequently limit her lifespan. My baby's favourite thing was running and being energetic, playing in the garden, getting up to mischief by jumping the fence and exploring the area... the thought of her not being able to use her legs, or be active like she once was, absolutely devastated me. This, plus the obvious pain that we could see she was in, lead us to elect euthanasia. I held onto her paw and stroked her head while she passed peacefully through the rainbow bridge. I told her how much she was loved and how grateful I was to have had her in my life. It was honestly the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and I know that words will never ever be able to describe it. She was going to be five in October. The fact that she was so young absolutely breaks my heart, and I feel like I have failed her.
Over the past two weeks I have just been overcome with emotions. Guilt... Should I have done more? Was there a way I could've detected it if I had paid more attention? Pain... the fact that I'll never see her again. Emptiness. The house just seems so quiet without her. I miss her with my everything.
Thank you if you've made it this far through the thread - I know I have gone on, but I feel like I needed to get all of this off my chest. I would really appreciate if anyone could also share their experiences of saddle thrombus on this thread, as I am still so desperately trying to understand it. Is there any way to come to terms with it? Wham also feels very lost and alone without Luna here... what is the best thing to do for her? I would really appreciate knowing that others know where I'm coming from, and have experienced this devastating disease too. Saddle thrombus truly is a cat owner's worst nightmare.
Luna, 10.21.12 - 08.07.17 </3
I'm new here. I stumbled across this forum while researching aortic thromboembolism online, and have since found comfort and solace in reading about other people's experiences with the heart-wrenching aftermath of saddle thrombus. Two weeks ago I lost my beloved Luna to FATE, and I am still absolutely shattered. I am hoping that sharing my experience will not only help others come to terms with their own experience with the disease, but will additionally aid my own grieving process as well; my mind simply keeps looping the entire situation over and over in attempt to make sense of it, and I feel like I really do need to get it down into words in order to accept and eventually move on from what has happened.
At the age of 17, I was living with my mother and sister on the south coast of England, and we already had a gorgeous tabby cat named Wham, who had just turned five at the time. A neighbour of ours had two cats, who had just produced a litter in the October of 2012. They had made the most beautiful little kittens, all either ginger and black... except one. A mix of everything, the runt of the litter - our little Luna.
Everyone was just desperate to get their hands on the kittens, and it was our little tortoiseshell baby that was left. My neighbour really struggled to find her a home, and my mother agreed to adopt the kitten. My sister and I were so unbelievably thrilled, and we fell in love with her from the moment we laid eyes on her. She was truly the strangest - but consequently the cutest - little thing I had ever seen (most predominantly due to the unusual markings she had on her face), and we were instantly inseparable.
I moved away to go to university in London when I was 18, and there was absolutely no way in hell that she wasn't coming with me. I moved in with my partner of two years, and he grew to adore her just as much as I did. At this point, we had developed a bond that was utterly unparalleled, and she was truly my rock and my comfort through the past three years, in which I have been away from all my family and friends on the south coast. She was my best friend and the light of my life, and she always knew when I needed her most. I have truly never experienced a friendship quite like it.
I finished university in May, and was looking forward to spending some time unwinding with Luna before I started my more permanent job in September. Wham had since moved up to London to also live with us due to family circumstances, and the four of us developed a family structure that had once appeared absolutely unbreakable. Until the 7th of August, 2017.
It was an absolutely ordinary day. We had been playing with Luna the previous night; she was messing around with us while we were trying to change the duvet covers on our bed (in true Luna fashion - she was just so playful and energetic), and she slept by my side most of the night. We woke up in the morning and I sat down on the sofa with her while I planned the week ahead. She was purring away, lovingly looking up at me with her googly green eyes, kneading my leg and brushing her head against my hand while I attempted to move the mouse of my laptop. There was absolutely no signs that anything was wrong. She appeared dissatisfied with the amount of attention she was getting, so she moved over to another chair and sat there for about half an hour.
She jumped back over to the spot where I was sat, and almost just fell into a perfect little nook in the throw sat next to me. I cooed at her for a minute, thinking that it was cute - still not noticing anything out of the ordinary. It then appeared that she began retching, almost, like she had a hairball. I ran out into the kitchen and grabbed some kitchen paper, just in case. When I came back, her breathing had quickened, and her eyes had glazed with a sense of panic. Many of the threads I have read concerning saddle thrombus depict the sense of 'terror' that they could see in their beloved companion's eyes, and I know exactly what they mean. It is absolutely heartbreaking and earth-shattering to see, but it immediately notified me that something was extremely wrong.
She began meowing - it was loud, alarmed - like even she didn't know what was happening. She attempted to get up, and that's when I noticed that she couldn't use her back legs. I was immediately overcome with fear, and everything that came next is a blur. It seemed like my body just went into automatic, and somehow I knew exactly what I had to do.
I got her in her carrier right away and (literally) ran her to the vets. I thank my lucky stars that there is a vets that is a 3 minute walk from my home, and she was seen to as soon as I got her there. The vet inspected her, and seemed somewhat unsure about the diagnosis at first. She said that there was still resistance in her legs, still warmth. I was told to go home while they gave her painkillers, x-rays and ultrasounds in attempt to figure out what was wrong. I was completely unaware of aortic thromboembolism in cats, so returned home confused, frightened and in a state of utter shock.
My partner came home from work and we received a call from the vets telling us that she had lost the 'pain' in her back legs, which I automatically assumed was a good thing. It wasn't until they explained further that I realised she had lost the feeling in her legs, and that they had gone cold. They told us that she had heart disease, which completely knocked us for six. Heart disease? Our little bundle of energy, our happy and healthy baby... had heart disease? Apparently it is almost impossible to detect, but we were still so overwhelmed by shock. There were absolutely no signs.
They told us that this heart condition produced blood clots, and that one had subsequently got caught in her abdomen and had prevented the blood flow to her hind legs, rendering them completely unusable. They told us that they could either attempt treatment (adding that the outcome isn't guaranteed, and that there is great possibility it could happen again in the future is she did pull through the procedures), or we could put her to sleep. This was not a possibility for me. I told them to continue with the treatment. Anything to get my baby back in my arms.
We had another call about half an hour later, asking us to go down to the vets to have a chat and to see Luna. I immediately knew this wasn't a good sign. As we sat in the waiting area, I could hear her cries of pain. We went in the room and she was laid on the table, hooked up to a machine that was monitoring her heart rate, and she had blankets covering her back legs. Her breathing had gone rattly. I tried to comfort her and she calmed down a little, however it was still clear she was in agony. I had never heard her meow like that.
The vet basically told us that the survival rate of the treatment was extremely low, and that even if Luna did pull through, she would be on life-long medication and would be highly at risk and developing other clots that would consequently limit her lifespan. My baby's favourite thing was running and being energetic, playing in the garden, getting up to mischief by jumping the fence and exploring the area... the thought of her not being able to use her legs, or be active like she once was, absolutely devastated me. This, plus the obvious pain that we could see she was in, lead us to elect euthanasia. I held onto her paw and stroked her head while she passed peacefully through the rainbow bridge. I told her how much she was loved and how grateful I was to have had her in my life. It was honestly the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and I know that words will never ever be able to describe it. She was going to be five in October. The fact that she was so young absolutely breaks my heart, and I feel like I have failed her.
Over the past two weeks I have just been overcome with emotions. Guilt... Should I have done more? Was there a way I could've detected it if I had paid more attention? Pain... the fact that I'll never see her again. Emptiness. The house just seems so quiet without her. I miss her with my everything.
Thank you if you've made it this far through the thread - I know I have gone on, but I feel like I needed to get all of this off my chest. I would really appreciate if anyone could also share their experiences of saddle thrombus on this thread, as I am still so desperately trying to understand it. Is there any way to come to terms with it? Wham also feels very lost and alone without Luna here... what is the best thing to do for her? I would really appreciate knowing that others know where I'm coming from, and have experienced this devastating disease too. Saddle thrombus truly is a cat owner's worst nightmare.
Luna, 10.21.12 - 08.07.17 </3
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