It was quite the impromptu adventure when Burnie arrived in our lives -- not to mention the gender snafu! In 3 very busy months, she has become the center of our household and such a source of entertainment, joy, and companionship. We can't imagine having stumbled upon a cuter (look at that pink nose and those delicate paws!), more well-adjusted cat than our "Burnie Bear" (her name, Burnadette, means "little bear"). It has felt like a real gift from God, and the timing was interesting too -- we brought her home just 2 days after finding out we were expecting a baby. In many ways, Burnie has been part of our "preparation" for parenthood. The most surprising, heart-melting, and scary part of adopting our little fur-baby has been the issue of her health. When we first got her, we couldn't imagine why anyone would literally "dump off" such a beautiful and sweet cat. Within a few weeks we discovered the possible reason -- it seems Burnie has, at the very least, a seizure disorder (feline epilepsy) and, at the worst, a more serious health issue that we haven't discovered yet.
So far she's had 3 middle-of-the night seizures, and we think she had one while we were gone during the day. Talk about traumatic: being awakened at 2 or 3 am to your cat convulsing on your bed, and there is nothing you can do but wait it out. After the second seizure, when we discovered it wasn't just a "one-time thing," we took her to the vet and began the semi-expensive process of testing her for any other type of health problem that could be causing the seizures. So far we have ruled out everything from a liver malfunction to feline leukemia and feline AIDS. Short of doing extremely expensive "cat" scans (ha!) and MRIs, we are left with the diagnosis that makes Burnie a truly exceptional cat -- she is one of the .5% of felines who suffer from epilepsy. There is no cure, only a lifetime supply of daily phenobarbital in Burnie's future.
Last week I took her back to the vet (her third trip in as many months) because I had discovered a lump on her side, next to her spine. I had suspected this was evidence (finally) of some underlying cause for her seizures, and anticipated more tests, possible surgery (yike$!), and a more devastating diagnosis. Our vet, bless his heart, seems to have little regard for Burnie's aesthetics -- he shaved a 3x2 inch patch of fur from her side so that he could examine her more closely and try to retrieve any fluid from the lump. As it turns out, he couldn't get anything out of it and says it's most likely a "hematoma" -- like a bruise under the skin, possibly from some kind of trauma (hmm, like maybe trying to jump into our armoire with the doors halfway closed?). So, we are to watch it to see if it gets any bigger, and in the meantime I'm hoping her fur grows back quickly.
Whatever Burnie's future holds, I'm so grateful she's part of our growing family. I know this sounds extremely mushy, but, it's pretty amazing what loving on a cat can do to calm you down and help you focus on the here and now. Burnie is helping me remember what's most important in life, at a time when I need it most!
