Our sweet tabby boy Torgi is no longer diabetic.
After fifteen months of twice-daily insulin injections, I thoroughly enjoyed typing that sentence. And although we are waiting on the results of additional blood tests, we are celebrating with salmon and snuggles tonight.
Zen would like you to know that she is getting in on some of that action too.
I hope you don’t mind cat photos in lieu of in-depth content. Hah, who am I kidding? Cats rule the Internet.
Writing from: Torgi’s side. Listening to: “Snowball in Hell” by They Might Be Giants.
We are getting very good at Torgi’s insulin injections, although it is still a little surreal to be doing it. I remember hearing about diabetes for the first time when I was in grade school and a boy in my class was diabetic. He carried around a tube of cake-frosting in his backpack and I found that very exotic. Clearly I had no idea how not-exotic hypoglycaemia was.
Torgi has his own tube of cake-frosting, except it’s called Glucogel (renamed from the more ominous-sounding Hypostop) and you wouldn’t want to frost a cake with it.
Today I am grateful for:
- Papers, which helped me organise a disheveled mass of ideas into a pretty okay essay for my information policy class. (Thanks, Hawk.)
- musicForProgramming();, the soundtrack for aforementioned essay-writing. (Thanks, Jaschu.)
- Long- and short-range moral support. (Thanks, Bradley and FunkyPlaid.)