Feeling more hopeful!

Well, I panicked after the two seizures in four hours on June 15, and went back to 15 mg bid.
Milk's been back on that dosage for a while now, and it seems to be having a much less negative effect on him than the last time. He's not sleeping as much, he's cuddling again with the other cats, and he is just generally "here" again. And he's much more interested in food this time, thank goodness. There have been no seizures since the dosage increase. I still have the 10mg vet chews, and at some point, I'd like to try to reduce the amount of phenobarb again, but maybe it'd be a good idea to wait until the next time his blood levels are checked. I'm hesitant to do anything to rock the boat again.

One small thing I've noticed - twice in the last few days (the second time was tonight), Milk was sleeping on the back of the couch, and he fell off. The first time, he went forward and landed in one of the kitty pi's, looking like he'd been sitting there all night. Tonight, he fell backward and ended up sitting up on the floor. He appeared a little dazed. There was no meowing or foaming or anything else that happens with a regular seizure, so maybe this was a petit mal seizure, or maybe it wasn't a seizure at all? Although, I've never seen him or any cat fall off the couch in their sleep. Something to keep track of, I guess.

Seizures return.

Until Seizure #12, Monday afternoon, June 11, 2007. He had been downstairs, and out of the blue, he showed up beside my chair. He was meowing plaintively, and his face and neck were wet - a bad sign. And he was starving. He ate almost an entire 5 ounce can of food in one fell swoop. I had run the sweeper earlier, and he was scared from behind the couch by it, hiding in the bedroom, and then dashing from the bedroom when I got in there. I have never been able to identify any triggers, but I wonder if, since he was more aware because of the lower dosage of phenobarb, he was more terrified by the noise. He seems more sensitive to sounds after the seizures. I talked to the vet about maybe increasing the dosage again a little (difficult to do because of the size of the pills - would need vet chews or liquid, I suppose.) He was reluctant to do an increase, and said that very few cats are ever totally seizure-free on the medication - and that a cat that has only one or two seizures a month is considered "well-controlled." I guess I was spoiled by the two months with NO seizures. I don't want to have to choose between having him be a zombie with no personality and no appetite, or having seizures every time he turns around, though.

Seizure # 13, Friday, June 15, 2007, 4:15 AM. I woke to the sounds of Milk having a seizure. By the time I realized what was going on and located him, he was leaning against the back of the couch and jerking and snapping his jaw. The foam was gone from his face, but his fur and whiskers still had a few bubbles on them, and the kitty Pi he'd been sleeping in and the back of the couch were wet. (Thank goodness he isn't peeing during seizures, I guess.) His pupils were very dilated. He didn't pace or meow afterwards, but he was wobbly, and he ate most of a can of friskies and then started grooming himself. He wanted to rub against the other cats, who were all gathered around watching him. I guess this would be classified as a mild seizure, compared to some of the others. One thing I noticed - around 1:00AM, he was laying in his Pi with Scruffy and Burble in theirs, and all of a sudden, he jumped up and sank his teeth into Burble's neck. Burble indignantly hopped down right away, and Milkshake just sat upright on the couch and stared at him on the floor. It was odd behavior, and now I wonder if it was some sort of seizure-foreshadowing?

Seizure #14 - Friday, June 15, 2007, 8:00 AM. This one came as a real surprise, being only four hours after the last one. He had been sleeping on the end of my recliner, between my feet, and it was less violent-seeming than most. His pupils were very enlarged, and there was foaming and jaw-snapping. And a lot of jerking, although not very hard. He let me pick him up and hold him while he was still jerking, and sat in my arms for a while afterwards while I tried to dry off his face and neck with kleenex. He had a funny smell to him - almost chlorine-like - that I never noticed before. (But, I'd done a couple loads of towels yesterday with chlorine, so that's probably where the smell came from.) When he wanted down, he did a minimal amount of pacing - he was meowing for food. I opened three different kinds of canned food, none of which he wanted, and I finally gave him a little bit of dry, which he gobbled right up. He paced a while after he ate, and the meowing - piteously - continued for almost an hour. I'm not sure he was even aware that he was meowing - it seemed somehow more like a reflex than a communication. This is really depressing.

Phenobarbital started, and reduced.

On April 3, 2007, I took Milk to the vet. He had full blood work done, including the bile acids survey and testing for FIV, FELV, bartonella, and that other thing that you get from eating raw meat. Geez, my mind. All the results were either normal or negative. So.....

On April 4, 2007, I started giving him a quarter of a 60 mg phenobarbital pill. It wasn't a very accurate dosage, because the pill splitter didn't always get everything the same size. I put the pill in a Pill Pocket, which worked very well - he gobbled it right down. But from the beginning, he was pretty zombie-like at that dosage. He didn't come when I called him - he didn't even flick his ears as though he recognized his name. He wouldn't let you pet him - like to run your hand from head to tail - he'd scrooch down so you were actually not touching anything. He was very clumsy - he fell off the bathroom sink, the kitchen table, the end table he likes to sit on, and the cat tree - multiple times. Sometimes he couldn't seem to get it together with his back legs to jump up onto places, either. His coordination was very poor. And, surprisingly, his appetite almost completely disappeared, which was odd, since phenobarbital is supposed to be an appetite stimulant. He was simply not himself from the very first pill. But - and it was a BIG "But" - he didn't have a single seizure on 15 mg.

I continued to give him 15mg bid all through April and into the middle of May. I took him back after six weeks for bloodwork to check his phenobarb level. It came out 27.2. Which the vet said was right in the middle of the recommended 15-40 scale, but I had read in several veterinary books that that scale was more geared to dogs, and that cats should be between 20-30, and the closer to 20, the better. And then it worried me that he wasn't eating, and the falling, and the other non-Milkshake things that I was seeing, so I started chipping the corners off the pills before I gave them to him. No way of knowing how much that reduced the dosage - it was minimal, I'm sure. I didn't see much difference in the way he acted, and he didn't have any seizures. I had what clearly has turned out to be a false hope that he'd have "gotten over" the seizures. The vet agreed to give me a prescription for 10mg vet chews from BCP, to try to lower the dosage. Unfortunately (especially since they were REALLY expensive, plus shipping!) he was used to the Pill Pockets, and he wanted nothing to do with chicken flavored Vet Chews. So, I gave up on them.

The first week of June, 2007, the vet gave me a prescription for 15 mg pills that I could cut in half. And it was like magic! Suddenly, the regular Milk was back. He played, he ran and jumped without falling over, and he ATE. It was wonderful. He cuddled again, with me and with the other cats. He started napping beside Scruffy.

And then the seizures started......

All was going well with Milkshake. We loved him dearly. He'd gained weight, he was an enthusiastic eater, he was attached to us and to the other cats, and he was a total delight.

Seizure #1: In the evening, on Friday, March 23, 2007, 11 PM, I was watching television, and Milk was napping on the couch. All of a sudden, he sort of stood up, lurched forward against the back of the couch, with foam all over his mouth. He had a kind of vacant, stunned look. He got down off the couch, and began to circle the living room rapidly. I had no idea what had just happened. I thought it must have had something to do with the foaming - like he'd choked or something. The thought of a seizure did cross my mind - I've seen humans have seizures, but never a cat. After he stopped circling, he came over and was very clingy. He let me clean off his face and neck where the foam ended up. Very upsetting.

Seizure #2: Saturday, March 24, 2007, 3PM. I didn't actually see this one, and it didn't register what had happened until later. I was in the kitchen at the computer, when I heard a "clunk" in the living room. Milk had been sleeping on the highest place on the new cat tree, and apparently fell off it. I didn't see foam, but he was acting oddly, and he's certainly never fallen off there before.

Seizure #3: Saturday, March 24, 2007, 10:30 PM. Another evening seizure that occurred while he was sleeping on the couch. There appears to be nothing triggering these seizures; they just happen.

Seizure #4: Sunday, March 25, 2007. In the morning. Milk was napping on the footrest of my recliner when the seizure started. Somehow, and I'm not sure how because it was so quick and horrifying, he ended up laying on the floor beside the chair. Lots of foaming. Same circling behavior afterwards. I didn't think to offer him food.

Monday, March 26, 2007. I took Milk to the vet. He examined him and said he didn't see anything obviously wrong. Suggested blood work, but I was in such a state I didn't follow up on it. I was hoping, also, that it wasn't going to happen again.

Seizure #5: Tuesday, March 27, 2007. About 2:00 AM. I didn't write down the details of this one, which makes me think that maybe I had been asleep and he woke me having the seizure. There was lots of foam.

Seizure #6: Thursday, March 29, 2007, 6 AM. This was a bad seizure - the worst yet. He'd been sleeping on the bottom of my chair. He woke me at 6 AM in the middle of the seizure. It started on the chair, but he ended up on the floor because he was quivering so hard. Once again, there didn't seem to be any trigger. He did a lot of circling afterwards, with plaintive meowing. I gave him food and he ate rapidly and with a sort of compulsive aspect to it.

Seizure #7: Saturday. March 31, 2007, 11 AM. He was again sleeping on the top of the cat tree when the seizure started. I was sitting in my chair, but didn't realize what was going on until he hit the floor. He bounced around and seemed to have wedged himself under the overhang of the end table. (I rearranged the furniture over there and put afghans and padding on the floor, and put a basket over the top level of the cat tree, so no one can sleep up there any more. It's not all that much closer to the ground if they're in the tunnel, but it made me feel a little better.) I went over to him immediately, and he was meowing and obviously shocked. He paced a little. I gave him food, and he ate voraciously.

Seizure #8: Sunday, April 1, 2007, 5:30 AM. Again he was sleeping on the couch when he had the seizure. Prior to it, he'd been acting very fearful - there was a heavy rainstorm going on, and I don't know what he remembers about storms, since he was so young last spring. He also had been hiding and wouldn't come when I called him. Seizure include foaming and jerking, with meowing and pacing afterwards.

Seizure #9: Monday, April 2, 2007, 11:00 PM. Violent movement from couch to floor, with his whole body quivering. Pupils were very dilated. Afterward, he let me pick him up, but then wanted down and started pacing and meowing. He seemed to recover a little faster this time and was a little less disoriented. He wanted to rub against the other cats.

Seizure #10: Tuesday, April 3, 2007, 3 AM. The worst seizure yet. He had fallen from the bottom of my recliner, where he was sleeping between my feet, onto the floor. He jerked and jerked, with some paddling movements for the first time. He also made a noise for the first time - sort of a high-pitched moaning noise. There was saliva all over him and the floor. He was doing some tooth-snapping, I now think - wasn't sure what it was before. Like banging his teeth together, or his jaws being tight or something. He let me hold him for a long time until he stopped jerking and shaking and started breathing normally. When I put him down, his coordination was very poor and he would react jerkily to sounds.

Seizure #11: Wednesday, April 4, 2007,In the PM. I didn't see this one - but when I got back from taking Busy to the vet (and got a prescription for phenobarbital for Milk), his neck and face were all wet, which happens from the foaming saliva. He was meowing and ravenous. STARTED PHENOBARBITAL, 15mg bid.

Milkshake the wonder cat

Where he came from:

Back in February, 2006, I was wandering through PetSmart. I make a point of never looking at the cats and kittens they have in cages for adoption because I can't bear it. But, for some reason, this time, I noticed a cage, way up on the top row, with a bunch of cartons and boxes in front of it - you could see the corner of the cage, and the note about the cat inside, but not the actual cat. The note said that his name was "Jerry", that he belonged to the Humane Society, and that he had been brought to them when his family was being evicted. He'd been "swept up" with 30 other cats. It also mentioned that he was "exotic looking." And for some reason, I just HAD to see him. So I shoved the boxes aside and stood on my tiptoes, and looked inside the cage, where I saw the most pitiful little animal I have ever seen. He was literally just skin and bones. He would have been white, except for the urine stains that covered every inch of his body. His eyes were oozing black stuff. His back knees banged together when he tried to walk. Even through the glass, I could see that he was having trouble breathing. I looked again at the cage tag, and noticed that it said he was 7 months old and weighed three and a half pounds. It made my heart hurt just to look at him. I already had three cats and a husband who carries on like a maniac every time a new cat shows up at the door.

When I went to check out, I said to the cashier, "That little white cat on the top row is sick. Isn't there someone to look at him?" And she said, "Oh, I'll go look." And she wandered off toward the back of the store. And for the rest of the evening, all I could think about was that pitiful kitten. I called the store manager when I got home and said that the cat was clearly sick, and what were they going to do for him? She said that she'd contact the Humane Society. I asked for the name of the person in charge of the HS adoption program, and then I called her and left a message. The next day, I went back to PetSmart, and got the manager to get little Jerry out of his cage and let me visit with him. It was even more awful than looking at him. He could hardly walk. He cried when he jumped down. He cried when you touched him. His breathing was ragged. His eyes were a mess. Every bone in his body stuck out. I said to the manager, "You are going to send him back to the Humane Society for medical care, right?" She said, "Oh, yes. I'll call them as soon as you leave." When I got home, the woman from the Humane Society had called and left a message. She announced that the PetSmart manager did NOT feel that Jerry needed medical care. I almost fell on the floor. The HS woman then said that they had a "very qualified volunteer" who visits the caged cats every night, and this person would be asked to make a decision on whether or not Jerry gets seen by a vet. I asked her if I could just take him long enough for my own vet to see him. She said no. I was pretty sure that he'd still be sitting in his cage at PetSmart the next day....

And he was. I absolutely could not leave him there. Aside from the terrible condition he was in, he was putting all the other cats and kittens at risk. On February 8, 2006, I told the manager to get him out of the cage. I paid his fee, put him in the car, and drove straight to my vet. He said that Jerry - hated that name! - had lost more than a third of his muscle mass because of malnutrition. He had severe conjunctivitis, most likely feline herpes, and a severe upper respiratory infection. He was shocked that a cat in that condition had been neutered three days before and then stuck in a cage at PetSmart. He gave me antibiotics and eye medication and instructions to feed him by syringe every two hours with a high calorie canned food. I started with AD, but he wasn't crazy about it. He loved the EVO canned, though, and soon was eating - on his own - two five ounce cans a day. His nose dripped constantly, even after he started living like a normal cat. He loved to wander around and see where all the other cats were so he could smash up against them. He never laid down without having a paw on someone.

And he is a wonderful cat. He has the sweetest personality. He sits on my chest and just stares into my eyes. He loves to snuggle. You never see him alone. He is always mashed up against either me, or one of the other cats. He seems to have such a need to touch them. He is such a tender little guy. He pats my cheek. He loves to hop up and wedge himself into my elbow and nap. I am absolutely besotted with him. I never wanted a white cat - too much pink. But he was absolutely the most loving little cat ever. His back legs were a little weak in the beginning, but as he began to eat better and more, he got stronger. Within a matter of months, he could hop from the floor to the top of the cat tree. It was wonderful. Having him around was such a sweet experience. My husband, who refused to even look at little Milkshake for two weeks, suddenly realized what a charmer he was, and began reporting to me every day about all the smart things he was doing. It just seemed like everything was about as good as it could be for us and for Milk.