Abelard has gone stupid!

"Mishi" wrote in message
...
I thought it may be heat exhaustion - that will make you
unresponsive and give you the shakes. He just laid down for a nap on the
nice warm driveway and was overheated fairly quickly. Next time (if there
is a next time), try taking his temp to see if it is elevated, and that
might give you a clue.

This explanation makes a lot of sense. I only wish it could be applied in
this instance. Both times, he was sleeping under a tree, in the shade. And
it hadn't been very hot, either.

Some people said things, and then:-
Pat added

One day last week he was sleeping on the driveway and called out to him. He
did not wake up. I called louder. He still did not wake up. I panicked. I
thought he was laying there dead. I ran over closer and yelled "ABELARD!!
WAKE UP!!!" and he still did not wake up. Then I started taking the chain
off the gate, making a loud clanking sound, and he woke up.

It *could* just be pure stubbornness. Cats I've had, and Sally, have at
times point blank refused to move or even acknowledge my presence when,
for example, they were napping in my favourite chair, or the bed when I
wanted to sleep. Each of them took it to different degrees but it's
true to say that sometimes a cat just plain doesn't want to budge.
Maybe Abelard was simply doing what comes naturally since all your other
tests showed him as normal. ?


--
Richard, whose Squeaky Chair can be seen at http://www.squeaky.demon.co.uk

"Bummer," said Pooh when Tigger dropped the joint in the honey jar.

Some people said things, and then:-
Pat added

One day last week he was sleeping on the driveway and called out to him. He
did not wake up. I called louder. He still did not wake up. I panicked. I
thought he was laying there dead. I ran over closer and yelled "ABELARD!!
WAKE UP!!!" and he still did not wake up. Then I started taking the chain
off the gate, making a loud clanking sound, and he woke up.

It *could* just be pure stubbornness. Cats I've had, and Sally, have at
times point blank refused to move or even acknowledge my presence when,
for example, they were napping in my favourite chair, or the bed when I
wanted to sleep. Each of them took it to different degrees but it's
true to say that sometimes a cat just plain doesn't want to budge.
Maybe Abelard was simply doing what comes naturally since all your other
tests showed him as normal. ?


--
Richard, whose Squeaky Chair can be seen at http://www.squeaky.demon.co.uk

"Bummer," said Pooh when Tigger dropped the joint in the honey jar.

Howard Berkowitz wrote in message ...

Been thinking about this, again from a human medical perspective, and my
first suspicion would be one of the epilepsies. What will be needed is
close observation, to see if he suddenly falls asleep on his feet, or
gets enough warning to lie down. Once he is asleep, there would then be
a question of what reflexes go away, and how long it takes them to
return. In children, this is often done by videotaping them throughout
the day.

The good news is that such disorders usually are treatable with
medication. The diagnosis will be the problem. I'd certainly get
thorough toxic screening to see if it might be some intermittent or
chronic poisoning. Is there a veterinary referral center in your area,
which would have a neurologist?

This is good post and your previous post in which you replied to me
was superb. and of course that is the one which is not showing up in
the Google archives. Figures.

In any case, you are right. X-rays show bone damage whereas MRI's will
show soft tissue lesions. In my case, there apparently was bone damage
which was pressing on the optic nerve. Hence the cat was blind in one
eye.

You were right about the horses and zebras. But the local vets and
even the vet students would not pay attention to me as I pointed out
that the cat was blind in one eye. It was so obvious, as seeing and
hearing the horses. The visiting vet from Boston, the professor of
neurology, had to point out to the well-fed and quite incompetent
future vets that the cat was blind in one eye and that was the clue to
where damage could be found in the brain.

To this day I cannot understand how any vet or vet student could be so
plain dumb and useless. It is truly terrifying. They just would not
listen as I patiently explained the reason the cat walked into walls
on the left is because she could not see. And this was not even my cat
and I could see that. At that time, I did not have any pets and am not
sure why I persisted in finding out what the answer was, going through
many local vets. The vets were not that expensive back then and I had
the time, obviously, and the money from somewhere. I would ask, who is
the best vet in the city, and go there and be quite disappointed. The
local ones I saw failed, some completely, some halfway, but none could
come up with the correct answer - phenobarbital for seizures in a
feline. Dumb and more dumb.

But your comments were astute. Very perceptive.

One warning, the vet school did not charge me for the professor of
neurology. But be careful. I could tell he half-heartedly asked me if
they, the school, could do brain surgery on the cat. I read between
the lines. I refused. There was somewhat a lack of enthusiasm when he
was asking me and I think it was because those years of students in
the world-famous vet school were not up to snuff. They were admitting
students not really capable of good veterinary practice.

But brain surgery on a small cat? The students were dumb and rude in
refusing to listen to me. Can you see the poor cat just plain wasting
away on the operating table while these morons had to be shown where
the optic nerve was and so forth? I felt the cat deserved to live
rather than die for the benefit of these useless students. Apparently
I was right. An associate had his pet die in a similar situation and
deduced that the extra time spent on the operating table for the
benefit of the future vets' show and tell is what did his beloved pet
in.

Howard Berkowitz wrote in message ...

Been thinking about this, again from a human medical perspective, and my
first suspicion would be one of the epilepsies. What will be needed is
close observation, to see if he suddenly falls asleep on his feet, or
gets enough warning to lie down. Once he is asleep, there would then be
a question of what reflexes go away, and how long it takes them to
return. In children, this is often done by videotaping them throughout
the day.

The good news is that such disorders usually are treatable with
medication. The diagnosis will be the problem. I'd certainly get
thorough toxic screening to see if it might be some intermittent or
chronic poisoning. Is there a veterinary referral center in your area,
which would have a neurologist?

This is good post and your previous post in which you replied to me
was superb. and of course that is the one which is not showing up in
the Google archives. Figures.

In any case, you are right. X-rays show bone damage whereas MRI's will
show soft tissue lesions. In my case, there apparently was bone damage
which was pressing on the optic nerve. Hence the cat was blind in one
eye.

You were right about the horses and zebras. But the local vets and
even the vet students would not pay attention to me as I pointed out
that the cat was blind in one eye. It was so obvious, as seeing and
hearing the horses. The visiting vet from Boston, the professor of
neurology, had to point out to the well-fed and quite incompetent
future vets that the cat was blind in one eye and that was the clue to
where damage could be found in the brain.

To this day I cannot understand how any vet or vet student could be so
plain dumb and useless. It is truly terrifying. They just would not
listen as I patiently explained the reason the cat walked into walls
on the left is because she could not see. And this was not even my cat
and I could see that. At that time, I did not have any pets and am not
sure why I persisted in finding out what the answer was, going through
many local vets. The vets were not that expensive back then and I had
the time, obviously, and the money from somewhere. I would ask, who is
the best vet in the city, and go there and be quite disappointed. The
local ones I saw failed, some completely, some halfway, but none could
come up with the correct answer - phenobarbital for seizures in a
feline. Dumb and more dumb.

But your comments were astute. Very perceptive.

One warning, the vet school did not charge me for the professor of
neurology. But be careful. I could tell he half-heartedly asked me if
they, the school, could do brain surgery on the cat. I read between
the lines. I refused. There was somewhat a lack of enthusiasm when he
was asking me and I think it was because those years of students in
the world-famous vet school were not up to snuff. They were admitting
students not really capable of good veterinary practice.

But brain surgery on a small cat? The students were dumb and rude in
refusing to listen to me. Can you see the poor cat just plain wasting
away on the operating table while these morons had to be shown where
the optic nerve was and so forth? I felt the cat deserved to live
rather than die for the benefit of these useless students. Apparently
I was right. An associate had his pet die in a similar situation and
deduced that the extra time spent on the operating table for the
benefit of the future vets' show and tell is what did his beloved pet
in.

In article ,
(Tree Line) wrote:


You were right about the horses and zebras. But the local vets and
even the vet students would not pay attention to me as I pointed out
that the cat was blind in one eye. It was so obvious, as seeing and
hearing the horses. The visiting vet from Boston, the professor of
neurology, had to point out to the well-fed and quite incompetent
future vets that the cat was blind in one eye and that was the clue to
where damage could be found in the brain.

My Chatterley (RB) began having visual problems and circling, then a
gradual loss of control. It was pretty obvious to me that it was
neurologic, and I really didn't go too much farther than with her
regular house-call vet. Our sense, admittedly without brain imaging, was
that it was a tumor rather than a cerebral bleed. I'm pretty familiar
with the treatment of human brain cancer, and decided that comfort
measures were about the right thing for her quality of life.

She went blind in the other eye, and there pretty obviously had been a
hemorrhage involved. The pattern of progression was even more
suggestive of tumor.

It bothered her when she began having problems with bowel control, but
cheered up when I groomed her. Given that she got around the house and
still interacted well, I didn't feel euthanasia was appropriate -- she
seemed happy. Eventually, she collapsed, during an intense sleet storm.
I couldn't see taking her through that to the ER, with a long period of
fear before euthanasia. Unfortunately, I didn't have any appropriate
drugs on hand, at least for terminal sedation.

As it was, she very much wanted to be with me, and was still eager to
eat four hours after her collapse. She began slipping in and out of
consciousness, but very clearly wanted to be held. She would have
occasional convulsions that frightened her, but again, hugs seemed to
make a big difference. She died in my arms about eight hours after her
collapse.

But brain surgery on a small cat?

If the clinical picture were suggestive of a small, nonaggressive tumor,
it might be possible. There are forms of focused radiation therapy that
also might help.

The biggest problem is that you really need a biopsy for the diagnosis
in most cases. As far as I could tell, the likely problem was an
aggessive tumor, the feline equivalent of a gliom or high-grade
astrocytoma. If I personally had such a diagnosis, I'd think carefully
of the status of palliative care -- it has improved enough that it can
buy some life extension with reasonable quality of life. I'm not sure,
however, that the therapies would be acceptable to a cat.

In article ,
(Tree Line) wrote:


You were right about the horses and zebras. But the local vets and
even the vet students would not pay attention to me as I pointed out
that the cat was blind in one eye. It was so obvious, as seeing and
hearing the horses. The visiting vet from Boston, the professor of
neurology, had to point out to the well-fed and quite incompetent
future vets that the cat was blind in one eye and that was the clue to
where damage could be found in the brain.

My Chatterley (RB) began having visual problems and circling, then a
gradual loss of control. It was pretty obvious to me that it was
neurologic, and I really didn't go too much farther than with her
regular house-call vet. Our sense, admittedly without brain imaging, was
that it was a tumor rather than a cerebral bleed. I'm pretty familiar
with the treatment of human brain cancer, and decided that comfort
measures were about the right thing for her quality of life.

She went blind in the other eye, and there pretty obviously had been a
hemorrhage involved. The pattern of progression was even more
suggestive of tumor.

It bothered her when she began having problems with bowel control, but
cheered up when I groomed her. Given that she got around the house and
still interacted well, I didn't feel euthanasia was appropriate -- she
seemed happy. Eventually, she collapsed, during an intense sleet storm.
I couldn't see taking her through that to the ER, with a long period of
fear before euthanasia. Unfortunately, I didn't have any appropriate
drugs on hand, at least for terminal sedation.

As it was, she very much wanted to be with me, and was still eager to
eat four hours after her collapse. She began slipping in and out of
consciousness, but very clearly wanted to be held. She would have
occasional convulsions that frightened her, but again, hugs seemed to
make a big difference. She died in my arms about eight hours after her
collapse.

But brain surgery on a small cat?

If the clinical picture were suggestive of a small, nonaggressive tumor,
it might be possible. There are forms of focused radiation therapy that
also might help.

The biggest problem is that you really need a biopsy for the diagnosis
in most cases. As far as I could tell, the likely problem was an
aggessive tumor, the feline equivalent of a gliom or high-grade
astrocytoma. If I personally had such a diagnosis, I'd think carefully
of the status of palliative care -- it has improved enough that it can
buy some life extension with reasonable quality of life. I'm not sure,
however, that the therapies would be acceptable to a cat.

In article ,
(Tree Line) wrote:


You were right about the horses and zebras. But the local vets and
even the vet students would not pay attention to me as I pointed out
that the cat was blind in one eye. It was so obvious, as seeing and
hearing the horses. The visiting vet from Boston, the professor of
neurology, had to point out to the well-fed and quite incompetent
future vets that the cat was blind in one eye and that was the clue to
where damage could be found in the brain.

My Chatterley (RB) began having visual problems and circling, then a
gradual loss of control. It was pretty obvious to me that it was
neurologic, and I really didn't go too much farther than with her
regular house-call vet. Our sense, admittedly without brain imaging, was
that it was a tumor rather than a cerebral bleed. I'm pretty familiar
with the treatment of human brain cancer, and decided that comfort
measures were about the right thing for her quality of life.

She went blind in the other eye, and there pretty obviously had been a
hemorrhage involved. The pattern of progression was even more
suggestive of tumor.

It bothered her when she began having problems with bowel control, but
cheered up when I groomed her. Given that she got around the house and
still interacted well, I didn't feel euthanasia was appropriate -- she
seemed happy. Eventually, she collapsed, during an intense sleet storm.
I couldn't see taking her through that to the ER, with a long period of
fear before euthanasia. Unfortunately, I didn't have any appropriate
drugs on hand, at least for terminal sedation.

As it was, she very much wanted to be with me, and was still eager to
eat four hours after her collapse. She began slipping in and out of
consciousness, but very clearly wanted to be held. She would have
occasional convulsions that frightened her, but again, hugs seemed to
make a big difference. She died in my arms about eight hours after her
collapse.

But brain surgery on a small cat?

If the clinical picture were suggestive of a small, nonaggressive tumor,
it might be possible. There are forms of focused radiation therapy that
also might help.

The biggest problem is that you really need a biopsy for the diagnosis
in most cases. As far as I could tell, the likely problem was an
aggessive tumor, the feline equivalent of a gliom or high-grade
astrocytoma. If I personally had such a diagnosis, I'd think carefully
of the status of palliative care -- it has improved enough that it can
buy some life extension with reasonable quality of life. I'm not sure,
however, that the therapies would be acceptable to a cat.

I had a cat that was 16 and 1\2 yrs oldshe started to be sort of incontinent
she wasn't blind but moved very little really and ate very littleshe was
losing weight the vets put her under and found she had small tumours on her
brain.
and that she was too old to undergo such a big operation. I had to let her
go. That was all of twenty yrs ago.Poor Panther she was part of the family
I hope Abelard comes through whatever is wrong with him sending Prayers
and Purrs for him. Jean.P.


Howard Berkowitz wrote in message
...
In article ,
(Tree Line) wrote:


You were right about the horses and zebras. But the local vets and
even the vet students would not pay attention to me as I pointed out
that the cat was blind in one eye. It was so obvious, as seeing and
hearing the horses. The visiting vet from Boston, the professor of
neurology, had to point out to the well-fed and quite incompetent
future vets that the cat was blind in one eye and that was the clue to
where damage could be found in the brain.

My Chatterley (RB) began having visual problems and circling, then a
gradual loss of control. It was pretty obvious to me that it was
neurologic, and I really didn't go too much farther than with her
regular house-call vet. Our sense, admittedly without brain imaging, was
that it was a tumor rather than a cerebral bleed. I'm pretty familiar
with the treatment of human brain cancer, and decided that comfort
measures were about the right thing for her quality of life.

She went blind in the other eye, and there pretty obviously had been a
hemorrhage involved. The pattern of progression was even more
suggestive of tumor.

It bothered her when she began having problems with bowel control, but
cheered up when I groomed her. Given that she got around the house and
still interacted well, I didn't feel euthanasia was appropriate -- she
seemed happy. Eventually, she collapsed, during an intense sleet storm.
I couldn't see taking her through that to the ER, with a long period of
fear before euthanasia. Unfortunately, I didn't have any appropriate
drugs on hand, at least for terminal sedation.

As it was, she very much wanted to be with me, and was still eager to
eat four hours after her collapse. She began slipping in and out of
consciousness, but very clearly wanted to be held. She would have
occasional convulsions that frightened her, but again, hugs seemed to
make a big difference. She died in my arms about eight hours after her
collapse.

But brain surgery on a small cat?

If the clinical picture were suggestive of a small, nonaggressive tumor,
it might be possible. There are forms of focused radiation therapy that
also might help.

The biggest problem is that you really need a biopsy for the diagnosis
in most cases. As far as I could tell, the likely problem was an
aggessive tumor, the feline equivalent of a gliom or high-grade
astrocytoma. If I personally had such a diagnosis, I'd think carefully
of the status of palliative care -- it has improved enough that it can
buy some life extension with reasonable quality of life. I'm not sure,
however, that the therapies would be acceptable to a cat.

I had a cat that was 16 and 1\2 yrs oldshe started to be sort of incontinent
she wasn't blind but moved very little really and ate very littleshe was
losing weight the vets put her under and found she had small tumours on her
brain.
and that she was too old to undergo such a big operation. I had to let her
go. That was all of twenty yrs ago.Poor Panther she was part of the family
I hope Abelard comes through whatever is wrong with him sending Prayers
and Purrs for him. Jean.P.


Howard Berkowitz wrote in message
...
In article ,
(Tree Line) wrote:


You were right about the horses and zebras. But the local vets and
even the vet students would not pay attention to me as I pointed out
that the cat was blind in one eye. It was so obvious, as seeing and
hearing the horses. The visiting vet from Boston, the professor of
neurology, had to point out to the well-fed and quite incompetent
future vets that the cat was blind in one eye and that was the clue to
where damage could be found in the brain.

My Chatterley (RB) began having visual problems and circling, then a
gradual loss of control. It was pretty obvious to me that it was
neurologic, and I really didn't go too much farther than with her
regular house-call vet. Our sense, admittedly without brain imaging, was
that it was a tumor rather than a cerebral bleed. I'm pretty familiar
with the treatment of human brain cancer, and decided that comfort
measures were about the right thing for her quality of life.

She went blind in the other eye, and there pretty obviously had been a
hemorrhage involved. The pattern of progression was even more
suggestive of tumor.

It bothered her when she began having problems with bowel control, but
cheered up when I groomed her. Given that she got around the house and
still interacted well, I didn't feel euthanasia was appropriate -- she
seemed happy. Eventually, she collapsed, during an intense sleet storm.
I couldn't see taking her through that to the ER, with a long period of
fear before euthanasia. Unfortunately, I didn't have any appropriate
drugs on hand, at least for terminal sedation.

As it was, she very much wanted to be with me, and was still eager to
eat four hours after her collapse. She began slipping in and out of
consciousness, but very clearly wanted to be held. She would have
occasional convulsions that frightened her, but again, hugs seemed to
make a big difference. She died in my arms about eight hours after her
collapse.

But brain surgery on a small cat?

If the clinical picture were suggestive of a small, nonaggressive tumor,
it might be possible. There are forms of focused radiation therapy that
also might help.

The biggest problem is that you really need a biopsy for the diagnosis
in most cases. As far as I could tell, the likely problem was an
aggessive tumor, the feline equivalent of a gliom or high-grade
astrocytoma. If I personally had such a diagnosis, I'd think carefully
of the status of palliative care -- it has improved enough that it can
buy some life extension with reasonable quality of life. I'm not sure,
however, that the therapies would be acceptable to a cat.