Everyone is desperate for treatment and a cure. While it's getting closer, much work remains to be done, facts to collect and analyze, and outcomes to report before the drug(s) can be approved and produced for commercial use and "treatment." 

We must remember that Luna's case is a small research trial, not a treatment for Luna or any future cats fortunate enough to meet the criteria and be accepted.

Wednesday, May 3rd, we picked Luna up from the clinic around noon and said our goodbyes to the team. That was the tricky part. We are going to miss them all. If it were easy, I think I'd pack up, move, and go to work there with them if I could! However, it's time for another cat to take Luna's room and hopefully have a successful trial too! Animals needed nurses, too, right?

Our plane was delayed, meaning more carrier time for Luna. Traveling so long and far with a cat in a carrier under the seat is not easy. You're not technically allowed to hold the carrier on your lap to place a hand inside to pet and calm their anxiety; they want it stowed. That said, I pushed this rule a few times while some flight attendants turned a blind eye, and most enforced the rules with every pass of our row. Luna did great during the flight but was a total ball of fury on the way home! (a sight for sore eyes, but tough to deal with).

We arrived home around 1:00 a.m., and Luna was a crazy maniac. We couldn't get her to use her litter box (it'd been nearly 12 hours) as all she wanted to do was play and run, and who could blame her after a long day in a duffel bag under a seat? She wasn't interested in eating or drinking. Luna has a new lease on life sans that heavy belly and pent-up energy from her convalescence and travel. Luna tore up and down the stairs at lightning speed, hid under the bed covers, and slid across the wood floors until she wore herself out and curled up for the night. What a sight to behold, considering she did nothing but lay around and sleep for the last two weeks. 

We hope this is how she stays and want nothing more than for her to live and for her trial to bring hope to all future effusive FIP sufferers. Her little body has been through so much, yet you'd never know it to see her now. One opinion I have (I'm not brave enough to call it advice) for those working on diagnosing their cats with FIP is to give lots of thought to all the symptoms your cat has before spending money (about $400) on a fluid PCR test. It's costly and primarily inaccurate, as false-negative results are typical: "FIP viral mRNA not detectable" is a specific result when the cat has full-blown FIP, especially when correlated with the clinical signs. The most significant hallmark sign is the yellowish, fibrous peritoneal fluid. No other disease has fluid with this type/consistency. Luna had anemia, lethargy, a hugely distended abdomen, piloerection and dullness to her coat, persistent fever, a grade III heart murmur (that wasn't there on two earlier exams), and the yellow, fibrous fluid. Given a suggestive FIP diagnosis, we paid for an echocardiogram and a cardiology consult (another $500) to rule out cardiac disease, which I'd not do again. What good is a cardiac diagnosis if FIP is present? It changes nothing other than adds more financial stress.

Owners want concrete answers and let emotions and hope guide their judgment; I know we did, even though my gut said otherwise. We want to hear that our cat has anything other than FIP, and we'll pay anything for that chance. It's a challenging diagnosis to accept. A falsely negative PCR will only lead to false hope, more cost, and frustration in trying to figure out what else it could be...when all along with it is still FIP, a diagnosis of exclusion, and inevitable demise.

As for yesterday's first full day home, Luna was up at 8:00 with her papa as he left for work, and she ensured that I did not sleep for one minute. She wanted her wet food and tried to bite, bat at my face, and play until she got it. After she ate and got her to play out of her system, it was time for her shot and rectal temperature, and I was all on my own to do it! I called my friend and neighbor Kelly (Luna's godmother, lol) to come over and help. We got the job done. It wasn't pretty, but it was fast--one down and many more to go. She hated me for about one minute, then ran again as if nothing had happened. Luna had a fabulous rest of the day and evening, engaging in self-play, hiding in Amazon boxes, dragging around bubble wrap, and chasing ping-pong balls.

This morning was a repeat of yesterday morning. Luna was awake and ready to conquer the day. I gave her a shot solo this time, using a new technique that I came up with that worked well. I put on her harness, which tends to calm her down a bit, held her head in my armpit so she could not turn around to bite me, and got it in. The medicine is very thick, so the shot takes more time and pressure than most other drugs. I used the same holding technique for the rectal temp. I found a 2-second thermometer at Walgreens, so it goes very fast. I hope it's accurate!  

The shots will be easier this weekend since Jamie and I will be here. The other alternative is to do it at 6:00 a.m. when he gets up for work. The only issue is that I don't get home from work until midnight, and I'm just not all that dapper and patient at 6:00 a.m.! But we will do anything for our little LUNAtic!!The hardest part of this research trial is the unknown. Will she relapse? How far out can a relapse occur; weeks, months, or years? We will always be worried and watching her like a hawk, with one eye open.