The past week, I've been offline for the most part--that's because one of my cats was diagnosed with FIP. It's a cruel, cruel virus--considered to be fatal, no matter what. At least, that's what the general consensus is. Unlike Tuxy, who had cat parvo, and had a chance, albeit slim, to recover, my other cat, Super Derp, was not as lucky.
However, when he was diagnosed, the vet told me to look into a Facebook group that had the details about a possible cure. If that doesn't sound sketchy, I don't know what will, yet, despite how insane it sounds, this group legitimately has a cure. See, a cure for FIP exists, the problem is that the pharmaceutical behind it wants the drug to be used for other cases of illness in humans, not for cats; they believe the classification for cats will get in the way of the FDA approval for people.
You might have heard of the drug before, because it was a very popular topic in regard to treating COVID. Remdesivir isn't just an emergency-use case drug for the pandemic, it's also the cure-all that can make a fatal cat illness into something easily survivable. When I skeptically decided to go down the rabbit hole and dust off my facebook account, I was amazed to find some of the most caring, proactive, dedicated people ever. Run by a group of women, these ladies had set up a worldwide communication supply of remdesivir vaccines with the intention of saving cats lives. Whether they were foster cats, their own pets, or other's problems, they wanted to help every sick kitty they could.
My story, unlike the thousands of tales from owners with cats who did survive, doesn't end happily. Super Derp was too far gone to save--the illness had progressed too far for the vaccine to be of use. But for the short time that I was a part of this amazing network, I got to see some of the best parts of humanity, those bright moments of human interaction that even in the saddest moments, can lift you up, even just a little bit. A woman who I'd never met helped me, giving me supplies, treats, and the liquid gold FIP vaccine, buying me all these things, so my cat could have a shot at life. Others reached out to me, offering support, care packages, and encouragement. This blog mostly exists so I can just share how wonderful people can be--I've seen it before, on this very site--a community that banded together to help, out of the kindness of their own hearts. It astounds me; it makes me want to cry, it gives me hope.
I wish so badly that my cat could have made it. He deserved the best, and I won't ever forget him, I'll always cherish the memories of him, and I'm happy that I got to know him. He was a great cat, and I hope his legacy can live on, especially through some of his sillier photos.
However, when he was diagnosed, the vet told me to look into a Facebook group that had the details about a possible cure. If that doesn't sound sketchy, I don't know what will, yet, despite how insane it sounds, this group legitimately has a cure. See, a cure for FIP exists, the problem is that the pharmaceutical behind it wants the drug to be used for other cases of illness in humans, not for cats; they believe the classification for cats will get in the way of the FDA approval for people.
You might have heard of the drug before, because it was a very popular topic in regard to treating COVID. Remdesivir isn't just an emergency-use case drug for the pandemic, it's also the cure-all that can make a fatal cat illness into something easily survivable. When I skeptically decided to go down the rabbit hole and dust off my facebook account, I was amazed to find some of the most caring, proactive, dedicated people ever. Run by a group of women, these ladies had set up a worldwide communication supply of remdesivir vaccines with the intention of saving cats lives. Whether they were foster cats, their own pets, or other's problems, they wanted to help every sick kitty they could.
My story, unlike the thousands of tales from owners with cats who did survive, doesn't end happily. Super Derp was too far gone to save--the illness had progressed too far for the vaccine to be of use. But for the short time that I was a part of this amazing network, I got to see some of the best parts of humanity, those bright moments of human interaction that even in the saddest moments, can lift you up, even just a little bit. A woman who I'd never met helped me, giving me supplies, treats, and the liquid gold FIP vaccine, buying me all these things, so my cat could have a shot at life. Others reached out to me, offering support, care packages, and encouragement. This blog mostly exists so I can just share how wonderful people can be--I've seen it before, on this very site--a community that banded together to help, out of the kindness of their own hearts. It astounds me; it makes me want to cry, it gives me hope.
I wish so badly that my cat could have made it. He deserved the best, and I won't ever forget him, I'll always cherish the memories of him, and I'm happy that I got to know him. He was a great cat, and I hope his legacy can live on, especially through some of his sillier photos.
