Katelyn and Alex

Little did I know how much my life would change on that bitterly cold and rainy Columbus Day in 2005 when my roommate found two orphaned newborn kittens in our backyard. They were stiff, hypothermic and barely alive.

I am a 43-year-old disabled registered nurse recovering from a staphylococcus infection of my leg and knee that required a 6-month-long hospital stay, multiple surgeries, IV antibiotics and months of rehabilitation all in the hope of saving my leg from amputation. Our living room was transformed into my rehabilitative and living space, decked out with a hospital bed and medical-looking supplies.

My career as a nurse was most certainly finished and I was struggling with the loss of independence and self-worth. Instead of being the caregiver, I became the patient. How could I possibly care for these helpless newborn kittens?

My nursing experience taught me that I needed to get these little ones warm and dry. My caregiver gathered the necessary supplies: a heating pad, towels, kitten formula, bottles and syringes. Because they were too small, weak and lacked the sucking reflex to nurse from a bottle, I syringe-fed them hourly at first.

I placed a pet carrier on the table next to my hospital bed and laid the kittens on a towel covering the heating pad. That first night was a minute-by-minute vigil as I anxiously checked on them to make sure they were still breathing and listened for that faint mew of them calling for their missing mother.

My all-night vigil continued until my caregiver awoke the following morning to prepare for her commute to work. She was surprised to learn that the kittens had survived the night. Frankly, I was too. Prayers and a miracle kept these two precious kittens alive. I gained a daily purpose: to keep the kittens alive another hour -- another day.

Our vet, Johnny Wise, examined the brother and sister kittens that weighed 3- and 4-oz respectively. He said they were in good health considering all that they had endured. Eventually, the kittens were strong enough to drink formula from a nursing bottle and they continued to thrive and gain weight. I was hesitant to name these precious kittens for fear of losing them, but when it appeared that they were going to survive, I named them Katelyn and Alex. Not only were they going to survive, but I was too!

Caring for these precious kittens gave me the motivation to survive my own adversity with a new-found sense of purpose. I wasn't helpless after all! I nursed two kittens back from the brink of death while my own health improved as well! My concern for the kittens lessened my own feelings of helplessness and despair.

Within a couple months, I no longer needed the hospital bed. While I still require the use a walker and wheelchair, I can take care of myself with increasing independence. I may never be able to resume my nursing career, but my life is still worth living as is those two precious kittens who gave me a reason to hang on another day. I'm not sure who saved whose life that day.

Teresa Mitchell
Amarillo, TX 

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