Our cat Tasha was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism a couple of months ago. She’d probably had it for quite some time before diagnosis but we’ll likely never know that for sure. At any rate we tried the usual medical treatment –methimazole– with some success but giving two tablets a day to a cat isn’t fun for anyone. So we tried a trans-dermal gel compound which, while effective, may or may not have led to a sudden case of vestibular “dizzy cat” syndrome. So we switched back to tablets. Soon after switching back to tablets poor Tasha’s irritable stomach began acting up and she couldn’t keep food down. What to do? Dr. B. recommended treatment with Iodine 131 and referred us to The Cat Company — a place where staff have the training and confinement facilities to deal with radioactive isotope treatment. Tasha was admitted for treatment today, in good health but for her hyperthyroidism starting to show up again: racing heart, increased appetite, weight loss, hyperactivity. Dr. Mann, there, said she’s a pretty typical case and, as he observed her behavior in the examination room, thought she had a “very good attitude.” She’ll have received her single small dose of radioiodine by now and should be resting in interesting, soothing surroundings where she’ll spend the next few days. We may well miss Tasha more than she misses us. She is now, also, radioactive! I suppose we shouldn’t expect her to emerge from treatment with super-powers, like a spider-bitten Peter Parker, or a radiation-exposed lizard from one of those ’50s monster movies. Given feline habits, armament, and inclinations, it’s probably best Tasha not have super-powers. So we eagerly await the return of our mildly-radioactive kitty and look forward to her being cured of hyperthyroidism — no pills, no gels needed. Super-powers aside, perhaps we’ll nickname her Hyper Cat!
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I’d taken the day off in order to deliver Tasha to animal hospital for iodine 131 treatment … a cure for hyperthyroidism. Yesterday I received a call from the hospital informing me of their need to postpone admission. It seems there is a shortage of iodine 131. Without the treatment, and because of her apparent sensitivity to methimazole, Tasha would remain untreated until the rescheduled date for the procedure; her thyroid levels might return to their formerly dangerous highs. So I decided to take advantage of my scheduled day off. I would pick up a prescription of methimazole gel for trans-dermal dosing (less trouble for Tasha) at the compounding pharmacy which has very limited mid-afternoon hours. My morning was open so I headed to Hinckley Lake for the first time this season or even this year. It was a comfortable but hazy morning with thin to moderate overcast as I began my little hike along the lake. On the walk “out” I saw no large wading birds at all –unusual, I think– but was content to look around at the quiet beauty of the area. Low rumbles of thunder began but seemed to be to the north and west of me. As the skies darkened I felt I’d better turn around and so began a somewhat faster walk back around the lake. As I approached one of my favorite spots for finding herons I did, indeed, spy one. It was wading slowly through the shallows, apparently looking to spook a fish and find a meal; that’s just what happened. The Great Blue Heron struck lightning-fast and hauled a writhing fish from the muddy waters. The big bird had speared the fish with its lower beak. It held its prey aloft for a bit, lowered it into the water briefly, and repositioned the fish so it was head-first in its mouth. Then it lifted its head high and in a few gulps swallowed the fish. In less than a minute it was all over. The fish was gone and the heron was again wading slowly through the muddy waters, seeking another meal. It’s the way of nature: life and death, death and life.
It continues to be a stressful and tiring time. Our mothers are facing health issues. Our cat, Tasha, has reached a health crisis of her own — hyperthyroidism. There’s too much to do, and too little rest. Still, it’s possible to find a respite in nature. Wednesday morning, before heading off to work, I took a brief, solo photo hike along a portion of Chippewa Creek. Calm now after the spring’s torrents of rain, the stream flows gently over age-smoothed stone in a gorge carved deep into bedrock. The stream is canopied by the branches and leaves of old trees. Mosses and ferns grow in tiny trays of moist soil formed in the rockface. Despite the location, near a busy street and business center of town, the scene is calm and soothing to the soul. Just what I needed.
It’s been a tough time for our little cat. Tasha was due for a visit to the vet –annual exam, booster shots, etc.– and we’ve been worried about some other things. She has been scary thin since her skin problems and weight loss of last year but at the beginning of this month other things started happening. The skinny cat begged for food all of the time, had very stinky litter box visits (you know what we mean), and a noisy gut… and gas! A cat with gas is not a pleasant companion! The doctor visit was more stressful than usual but completed successfully with a blood draw for organ function. Twenty-four hours later Dr. G. called with the news… “It’s not just hyperthyroidism, it’s hyper-hyperthyroidism!” No humor intended: apparently the thyroid hormone levels were astonishingly high. We quickly filled her prescription for methimazole at the local Rite Aid and started dosing to control the situation. Though full control takes weeks, Tasha’s symptoms began to resolve within the first couple of days. Dr. G. recommended suspending Tasha’s low-level doses of prednisolone, intended to control stomach or bowel inflammation and vomiting. All was good and improving until Tuesday, a little better than a week after the vet visit… Tasha started vomiting. I gave her a big dose of her prednisolone and called the vet the next day; the regular course was resumed. So Tasha has been gaining weight, eating and keeping her food down, and no more gas! Though the cat may have been uncomfortable, I believe I may have suffered more with worry than she did with her tummy troubles. We know old Tasha (about 12+) doesn’t have a long life ahead but we hope it’s a happy one. For now, she’s improving and even indulges in the occasional nighttime crazies, or what we call “runnin’ and roarin'”, and we’re glad for it.

The view from the dining room doesn't include a trace of the driveway that runs past. If my car was in the picture you wouldn't see much of that, either!
A much-heralded winter storm struck in the hours before dawn this morning. Most all schools were closed for the day as was my workplace. The employer of She Who Must Be Obeyed was open for business but She wisely chose to work from home. So I spent the day on the Web Edition of the annual Calendar project whilst She participated in a conference call, did office work via the ‘net, and Tasha supervised. Around midday I shot a few photos of the snow (from the comfort of the dining room) and was happy I didn’t even feel the slightest bit of guilt over not going to work… they were closed, after all! It’s not snowing much now and the winds have died down. At around 4:00 I ventured outside and dug my car out of the drifts. I’d guess we got about 8 to 10 inches of snow but, since it blew around a lot, it was hard to be sure. As I finished excavation the clouds began to part, blue sky showed, and sunshine broke through! Maybe a little self-centered on my part but it wasn’t a bad Friday for me at all. A guilt-free say at home, personal projects done at my own pace, and a bit of pretty weather at the end. It’s a snow day!
It was a day off today so I did minor cleaning of things, some prep work on the Big Publishing Project, a couple hours for lunch out, with a little time for washing my shirts. I usually lay out the shirts in a stack on the bed to collect later for the trip to the basement. If she’s around, Tasha always takes the opportunity to nest amongst the shirts. A photograph of the practice was long overdue.
It was a truly miserable November day. Skies were overcast, temperatures never rose out of the 40s, there was rain, there was rain with ice pellets. I started work on my 2011 photographic calendar. I ventured outdoors only to hang the freshly-cleaned bird feeders and travel to Taco Bell for lunch. That was enough. The damp cold seemed to penetrate to the bone. It was a good day to be an indoor cat… or a “cat” indoors!

She doesn't like to be caught napping but Tasha can hardly stay awake perched atop the back of the couch.
As usual, feline wisdom is to be admired. It’s a cloudy, damp, and chilly day. While we need the rain, this kind of weather makes one want to get all comfy and take a nap rather than sit in an office and try and be productive. Sleepy Tasha has the right idea: stay warm and dry, curl up on a soft cushion, and have a snooze.
It was a dark and rainy weekend though not altogether a bad one.
Plenty of time for house felines to look out at the world through screened doors.
Time for the cat's people to slow down a bit, too.










