the Guinness roller coaster

Yesterday morning we picked up Guinness at the university. His vet said that he was having a good morning, had eaten breakfast, etc.. She had started him on steroids and wanted to see him later in the day to do a neuro exam. She also presented his case at rounds again. Everyone agreed that it’s a very mysterious case and that everything possible has been done (testing and treatment).

Guinness spent the day at home. He relaxed quite a bit, but also went up and down the stairs a few times, as if to say, “see mom, I’m okay, I don’t need to go back to that place.”

We took him back for his neuro exam and spoke with his vet again. She had heard back from both neurologists in the U.K. The one that she particularly likes (refers to him as the God of neurology) said that he’s never seen anything like this. His only suggestion was to send a sample of Guinness’ urine to the U.S. for a particular test. Basically providing confirmation of a Lysosomal storage disease, if that’s in fact what this is. Unfortunately there is no cure and it’s also very expensive to do, though at least we would have an answer.

Guinness is also now demonstrating some bizarre eye movement during his neuro exams, indicative of a brain disorder. The vet would like him to be seen by the opthamologist. The radiologists at the university did see something abnormal on the MRI, but it was “very subtle” and not cause for concern. We are still waiting for the official report from the radiologists in the U.K.

During his neuro exam he started having another episode. We brought him home and after resting for 30 minutes or so, he recovered. Last night he was right there when dinner was served and bedtime treats were handed out. He spent the night making the rounds, downstairs, upstairs, meowing, and sleeping. I think the best part of all was when he snuggled in bed with me, face to face, even giving me a few kisses on the nose.

Today he’s acting like a healthy, happy cat. He’s been up and down the stairs several times, used the litter box, and nibbled on some food. He spent some time snoozing on my lap, purring away. As I tried to eat my lunch, he crawled all over me trying to get at my food. He likes his water like I do, cold with ice. I added some ice cubes to his water dish and he took several sips.

This afternoon I’m taking him back to the university for his steroid injection and neuro exam. I will give the vet the update, the good and the bad.

The roller coaster continues…..

showing off his bright, red bandage


waiting for his doctor


Where I found him last night. He had put himself to bed.

a very sad update

On Saturday Guinness’ lead veterinarian called to say that he was hooked up to an IV and was showing little interest in food; they were syringing food into him. She had tried to induce an episode with his legs to take more video, but in that regard he was doing well and not having episodes. She wanted to continue to observe him through the weekend.

This afternoon a woman called to say that Guinness was eating and using the litter box. The university still hadn’t heard from the neurologists that they had sent the videos to in the U.K. They wanted to keep Guinness overnight again, not the news I wanted to hear.

Tonight Guinness’ lead vet called; the news is not good. She feels that he is continuing to deteriorate and not only are his back legs weak, his front legs are now weak too. She said that he is also somewhat reluctant to get onto his feet. As far as a diagnosis, there still isn’t one. He doesn’t fit the category for any one disease and the neurologists from the U.K. have still not been in touch; they will be called tomorrow. Guinness will be starting a high dose of steroids tonight because there really isn’t much more that can be done, so why not try it.

I expressed my desire for him to be home one more time, so we are picking him up tomorrow morning. I don’t know how long we will keep him here, probably not long. One thing is certain, my love for him and his quality of life always has and always will take precedence over my desire to have him “here” and personal selfishness. I also told the vet that I want to be there when he takes his last breath, which she agreed to. I will be cradling my baby boy as he leaves his earthly existence.

My heart is broken and my body physically hurts with pain. I can’t possibly put into words the love I have for that cat. Someday, hopefully soon, I will explain why he is more than just a pet to me, why he is so loved, so important to “his mommy.” For now I just wanted to let you know what is happening with my dear, baby boy.

I have asked the vet to summarize his history and tests as I will be immediately contacting several veterinary programs and specialists in the U.S. for more opinions. I honestly don’t expect to hear anything different than what we’ve been told here, but I need to exhaust every avenue possible for my own peace of mind.

Please pray that we will have a few good days with Guinness, and that this difficult process is as easy as possible, for all of us.

helping me pack a box a few weeks ago


Guinness loves Sundays.
I like having clean, white sheets on the bed to start the week and one of Guinness' favorite things to do is "help" me make the bed every Sunday night. Of course it always takes twice as long because we spend so much time playing, but I've never regretted those extra minutes. Looking back, I'm so glad that I let him have that time every week. It was worth every minute and every black hair on the clean sheets. I love you baby boy.

baby boy is in the hospital

After all of the improvement that Guinness had made over the past 24 hours, he unfortunately slipped backward. Last night he came upstairs for the usual bedtime treat routine. He had a few snacks and started to have an episode with his legs. He pulled himself under the covers, but something didn’t seem right. I picked him up, noticed the signs of a cat about to vomit, and quickly put a puppy pad (disposable, absorbent pad that we use for the cats) under his head. Baby boy threw up everything he had eaten yesterday. I wrapped up the pad, took it downstairs, and went back up to check on him. He was on the floor and began to cry. I put him on another puppy pad and he lost control of his bladder. It was the first time he had ever cried during a leg episode. I disposed of the soiled puppy pad and snuggled with him for a while. He decided to sleep on the wood floor in the hallway, a first.

This morning I called the university and basically told the woman who answered the phone that I needed someone to call me back immediately. The phone rang within five minutes, my husband was home 15 minutes later, and we were at the hospital within another 10.

Guinness was examined, more notes were taken, and a senior veterinarian came in to speak with us. All of the spinal tap results were normal. The official MRI report is not back from the U.K. yet, but the radiologists at UCD didn’t see anything that would be indicative of something major. The spinal tap results basically rule out most of the inflammatory brain diseases (the guess of the neuro-specialist in New Zealand). They are now going to get more video of Guinness having an episode and contact another neuro-specialist in the U.K. The veterinarian said that they have never seen anything like this. I again mentioned that it’s coming down to a quality of life issue and she agreed. She also thinks that we “need a break”, so they admitted him for the weekend. That way he can get some much needed IV fluids and they will be able to get more video.

The senior vet will be working all weekend and promised to call both Saturday and Sunday morning. We stroked Guinness’ head, told him that we loved him, and they bundled him up in his white blanket. It is the most helpless feeling to watch someone else carry your baby away, knowing that there is nothing you can do to help him. He looked at me with those big, black eyes, as if to say, why are you leaving me here. My heart hurts just thinking about it. I know that he is where he needs to be, but the selfish part of me wants him at home. I miss him so much already.

It’s going to be a long weekend. Please think good kitty thoughts. As usual, prayers are appreciated, for all of us.

my brave boy being admitted

back to the OB, or whatever he’s called

I had to go back to the OB yesterday and it occurred to me that in the U.S. he’d be referred to as a perinatologist or MFM (maternal fetal medicine) since he’s sub-specialized in high-risk obstetrics. Here he’s simply called an OB, just another difference between countries I guess.

The results from Friday’s blood work were back and in his words “perfect.” Yay! We were able to straighten out the prescription and before I left he said that we should have a look at the baby. Just then his secretary came in and gave him a message. He then told me that he needed to move his car, to hop up on the table, and he would be right back. I jokingly asked if I would be getting a picture this time as the machine was out of paper last week. He looked and sure enough, there was no paper. Seriously, no other patient in seven days had asked? Wowza! He left to move the car and returned with a roll of paper in his pocket.

The baby looks great and is getting so much bigger! The ribs are really well defined now and the baby gave us a great shot of its foot, toes and all. I still can’t believe this is happening. 18 weeks today!!!!

Guinness and anesthesia = bad combo

On Tuesday the lead veterinarian on Guinness’ case called to let me know that he had woken up from anesthesia (for the MRI and spinal tap), that he was moving around, had eaten, and that we could pick him up in a few hours. She also said that there were no “major abnormalities” on the MRI.

We arrived at the clinic and he was awake, barely. The lead vet said that there was something found on the MRI in the midbrain. The images were sent to the UK to be read by an MRI expert and the spinal tap results should be ready in a few days.

Upon arriving home, he belly crawled out of the carrier, a few inches into his favorite hiding spot, the bottom bookshelf where I keep my yoga mat. He was in there all night long. Wednesday morning I finally pulled him out and syringed 2 cc's of water down his throat. Throughout the day he was lethargic, refusing food and water, including his favorites, cooked chicken and Whiskas cat milk.

I finally called the hospital and left a message. The head of anesthesia for veterinary medicine called me back within minutes. We had a long discussion and she assured me that he had eaten and had some water upon waking up (I’m not entirely convinced). I really don’t think she understood how very out of it he was. I had to leave for an appointment, and left him snoozing on my bed.

When I got home a few hours later, he hadn’t moved. Last night was a rough night. Again, refused food, refused water, didn’t use the litter box, nada. After dinner I was sitting at the laptop and he crawled into my lap, though just couldn’t get comfortable. He eventually made his way back to the bookshelf and it appeared that he would once again spend the night there. My husband agreed to sleep on the couch so he could watch him.

Around 2am, I woke up to a cat trying to get under the covers next to me. I reached down, assuming it was Bella, and my hand was greeted to a little, bald head and the sound of my boy purring. I was ecstatic. He had climbed the stairs by himself and managed to get onto the bed. We had a wonderful cuddle.

This morning my husband spoon fed him a little bit of wet food, though I had still planned to call the university since two days later, he’s still not very alert, nor has he eaten enough, IMO. Wouldn’t you know, ten minutes before I was to call, the little monkey walked himself into the kitchen and ate some dry food. Since he’s showing signs of improvement, I’m going to hold off for now and continue to encourage wet food and possibly syringe more water into him (he needs some hydration).

The veterinarian should be calling later today or tomorrow with the spinal tap results. Again, we should know something more conclusive about the MRI next week.

Thank you all for your support. Guinness appreciates it too. Yes, I read the comments to him :)

my brave boy

another OB appointment, prepared this time

Last Wednesday I had another OB appointment. I’m sorry it took so long to write a quick update; it’s just that Guinness has been my main concern and all of my energy is going toward him right now. I thought I should throw this post in so you don’t think the blog is all about Guinness, and so you know that the baby is doing well.

After finding out that I’m supposed to hand carry a urine sample from the ladies room to the waiting room and finally hand it to my doctor, I decided to come prepared. Instead of allowing a small, specimen cup to roam loosely in my purse, I came armed with a Ziplock bag, you know, just in case the plastic lid should fail.

in case you were wondering, yes it's empty, and yes, it is much smaller than the specimen cups used in the U.S.


The appointment was fine and the baby looks great on ultrasound. Unfortunately the machine was out of paper, so I didn’t get a picture. NOT happy about that. My doctor said that my blood pressure was “perfect.” At my previous appointment he had said that it was “textbook”, so this time he asked me if I always had such perfect blood pressure. Yes, yes I do.

He wrote a prescription for me, booked the next appointment, and off I went. Of course now there is a little, okay big, problem with the prescription, but I’m currently trying to remedy that, and shall blog about it later.

Guinness' weekend

Before you think that the blog should be renamed “The Guinness Gazette”, this is still a blog about living overseas, infertility, and now, a high-risk pregnancy. It’s just that the situation we are dealing with first and foremost right now is our dear boy, Guinness.

On Saturday I noticed a red mark on Guinness’ collar line. Upon closer inspection I found a gash where he had been shaved for blood work.

Livid doesn’t begin to express my anger. I’m certain that whoever clipped him on Friday didn’t cut him out of malice. He’s a cat, cats move unexpectedly, accidents happen. What angers me is that nobody bothered to tell us. I’m an honest, upfront person and I expect as much from others. If you accidently cut my cat, tell me, I’ll handle it. In particular, I won’t let him run around with a collar on, further irritating his injury. I removed his collar, gave him a cuddle, and calmed down. The rest of the weekend he spent resting, spending most of his time napping on our bed. He did have a few episodes, two of which involved falling down the stairs and off the bed. Poor baby.

Yesterday afternoon we dropped him off again at the university hospital. The head veterinarian on his case came out to speak with us. I mentioned his neck, not in an accusatory manner, just that whoever is handling him should be careful because of his injury. She promised to take good care of him and also said that they had heard back from the neuro specialist in New Zealand. Unfortunately he thinks it’s probably an “inflammatory brain disease.” I’m shocked and saddened, as you might imagine. Guinness is only two years old, much too young for such serious medical problems. Hopefully the MRI and spinal tap will tell us more.

It was so hard to leave him at the hospital. He’s not spent a night away from home since we adopted him. The house feels empty without our baby boy. This morning I’m waiting to hear from the hospital, and praying for good news.

showing off his shaved neck


resting in his favorite place