My Cat Has Diabetes

The first sign was when Buddy stopped eating. This was a cat who normally whined to be fed and scarfed down all the food in his bowl. Now he would eat a little bit and then wander away. Instead of being gone in minutes, half the food would still be left hours later. Buddy was also lethargic. He no longer greeted me at the door when I came home. More likely than not, he was asleep on the couch.

I took Buddy to the vet, who told me my cat was dehydrated. The vet showed me how to administer subcutaneous fluids. She sent me home with a 1000-ml bag and a container of single-use needles. She also did some bloodwork, which later confirmed her suspicion of diabetes.

Diabetes treatment for cats is similar to for humans with the condition. I went to a regular pharmacy to pick up a vial of insulin, a box of needles, and a glucose monitor. On the signature page where it asked for my relationship to the patient, I chose “caregiver.”

This whole process has gotten me thinking about two things. First, how far do we go to improve the quality of life and extend the lifespan of those we love? Second, medical treatments generate a lot of plastic waste.

Quality of Life

Buddy is 17 years old. In February 2024, he will turn 18. That’s old for a cat. He no longer dashes up and down the stairs or chases after toys. His vision and hearing are going. When I toss him treats in the evening, I can see the treats better than he can. When a human who needs reading glasses to read 12-point font can see better in the dark than a cat, something is wrong with the cat.

Can Buddy still enjoy life? I think so. He appreciates attention. Anytime I sit on the couch he comes over and snuggles next to me, sometimes even climbing into my lap. He still purrs.

When the vet diagnosed Buddy with diabetes and explained that I would need to give him insulin injections twice a day, I asked about the prognosis with and without treatment. The fluids helped somewhat, but he was still lethargic and his appetite had not returned to normal. Without treatment for diabetes, Buddy would continue to decline rapidly. He would probably only live a few months.

If the treatment got the diabetes under control, Buddy could live another year or two with a much higher quality of life. Ideally, his appetite would improve and some of his energy would come back. The weakness in his hind legs that hindered his movement would subside.

When our pets are ailing, it is up to us to decide what treatments to offer. They can’t tell us their wishes directly. We need to judge the situation based on their behavior and prognosis.

All That Plastic

When Buddy went through the first bag of subcutaneous fluids, I returned to the vet to pick up a replacement. I brought the old bag with me, hoping that some components of it could be reused. The system included several feet of tubing plus multiple valves and connectors. The employee at the vet’s office told me the whole thing had to go into the trash.

I was disappointed. It feels like such a waste. I understand that avoiding contamination that could cause infection is more important than not throwing more plastic into a landfill. Sterility is critical when you are sticking needles into the skin.

Diabetes treatment would mean more plastic waste. Other than needles themselves, the syringes are entirely plastic. And each pack of ten is encased in plastic. After one use, the entire syringe needs to be discarded into a sharps container, which is also made from plastic.

The syringes are large enough to give up to 100 units of insulin. Buddy’s suggested initial dose was one unit. It makes sense that cats require much less than humans. Couldn’t they make a smaller syringe?

I realize that it is helpful to put things into perspective. Of the hundreds of millions of tons of plastic waste discarded every year worldwide, medical applications fall within the 12 percent in the “other” category. The largest category is, not surprisingly, packaging. Is the outer packaging for medical products included in “packaging” or “other”? I’m not sure. Regardless, reducing plastic waste in all industries should be a priority.

It is good to know that I am far from the only person concerned about plastic waste for diabetes management. In 2020, the Diabetes Technology Society announced the Green Diabetes Initiative. The initiative aims to “develop policies for minimization, collection, separation, treatment, and disposal of diabetes device waste, as well as to address waste management policy and education.” They list five R’s—reduce, reuse, recycle, redesign, and re-educate.

One piece of re-education is to ensure that people dispose of sharps properly. I was surprised to learn that a significant percentage of people with diabetes discard sharps into the trash. Anything with a needle should go into a dedicated sharps container (or a sturdy, puncture-proof plastic bottle) and be dropped off at a facility that will process the items safely.

How Buddy’s Doing

I decided to go ahead with the diabetes treatment. The needles are so small that Buddy barely notices them going in. I’m starting to get into a bit of a routine.

Fortunately, it is going well. Buddy’s appetite has returned, he isn’t as incredibly thirsty as he had been, and he seems to be moving around a bit better. I hope that, eventually, the Green Diabetes Initiative will find safe ways to reduce the amount of plastic waste that diabetes care generates. Meanwhile, I will take care of my cat. I appreciate having him around for as long as he can stay healthy enough to act as though he’s content with his life.