WebKittyn Warbles
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Not Again
Ugh. That's all I want to say is ugh.
A little history. I've always had dogs in my life, I grew up with 3 dogs through the years. One mutt and 2 Akitas so I'm used to substantial dogs. When my parents moved and I was separated for the first time by 90 miles from my best friends, I got sort of mopey. I had turned down a great job offer because I thought I was moving up with them to the area but in a stream of bad decisions I ended up staying. I won't say I got depressed in the classic sense but it was the saddest I have ever been.
This was 10 years ago or so. What got me through the sad and back into life was Claude. In a rare moment of empathy, Darkstar brought home a cat from Forgotten Felines. A year and a half old black and white with the roundest head I had ever seen. Big cheeks. I named him Claude Lemieux after my favourite hockey player and for the play on words (if he had claws he'd be clawed/Claude and Lemieux sounds like LeMew).
I've spent a lot of time crying on Claude when things are bad, talking to Claude when there was no one to listen and spoiling him like a child. Screw what people with kids say, to those of us who don't have kids our pets ARE our kids. Every time I needed something, Claude has been there.
He's never been the healthiest cat. A few years ago he had a malignant cancer removed from his side. He's had thyroid problems, PH problems, growths removed a few other times. But everything so far has been successful because we are lucky enough to have an amazing vet who really cares about the animals he treats.
5:30 this morning I was petting Claude when I felt it. A lump. A large fucking lump on his side, right where the first cancer had been. 5:31 the hysterics started and I haven't stopped yet.
My father said something yesterday, that Claude didn't seem his usual self. He has slight arthritis in his buttocks and it was cold yesterday so it could easily have been that but of course the second I felt the lump I kept hearing my dad saying that and the mind plays tricks, I flashed on a dozen things that seem different (that are probably in my head).
I'm up here for another week, I called and made an appointment for the 18th. They'll cut it ou and send it out for another biopsy, I think this is Claude's 5th biopsy in his lifetime. He's 11 years old, I'm afraid of the anesthesia. That period of waiting for Dr. Ringler to call and tell me the results. My stupid head won't let me even consider the positive, the only place my head goes is the dark cancer-filled place.
I don't really care if people don't get it, if they think I'm some sort of nut. I love this cat more than anything in this world except my parents and every time I've gone through this it tears at me. Having to wait a week is killing me already, I know one week won't make a difference but I can't help the doom-mongering. I don't want to hear "if you had only brought him in sooner."
My Claudie. My very bestest friend and my fuzzy little 9 pound baby. I can't stand this, I really can't fucking stand this.
Cross your fingers for us.
(post-script) Needless to say my head is in bad shape. I think I'm just going away from the computer for a while, I'm dizzy, haven't slept and I feel like crap. Maaaan, could I use some good news now.
A little history. I've always had dogs in my life, I grew up with 3 dogs through the years. One mutt and 2 Akitas so I'm used to substantial dogs. When my parents moved and I was separated for the first time by 90 miles from my best friends, I got sort of mopey. I had turned down a great job offer because I thought I was moving up with them to the area but in a stream of bad decisions I ended up staying. I won't say I got depressed in the classic sense but it was the saddest I have ever been.
This was 10 years ago or so. What got me through the sad and back into life was Claude. In a rare moment of empathy, Darkstar brought home a cat from Forgotten Felines. A year and a half old black and white with the roundest head I had ever seen. Big cheeks. I named him Claude Lemieux after my favourite hockey player and for the play on words (if he had claws he'd be clawed/Claude and Lemieux sounds like LeMew).
I've spent a lot of time crying on Claude when things are bad, talking to Claude when there was no one to listen and spoiling him like a child. Screw what people with kids say, to those of us who don't have kids our pets ARE our kids. Every time I needed something, Claude has been there.
He's never been the healthiest cat. A few years ago he had a malignant cancer removed from his side. He's had thyroid problems, PH problems, growths removed a few other times. But everything so far has been successful because we are lucky enough to have an amazing vet who really cares about the animals he treats.
5:30 this morning I was petting Claude when I felt it. A lump. A large fucking lump on his side, right where the first cancer had been. 5:31 the hysterics started and I haven't stopped yet.
My father said something yesterday, that Claude didn't seem his usual self. He has slight arthritis in his buttocks and it was cold yesterday so it could easily have been that but of course the second I felt the lump I kept hearing my dad saying that and the mind plays tricks, I flashed on a dozen things that seem different (that are probably in my head).
I'm up here for another week, I called and made an appointment for the 18th. They'll cut it ou and send it out for another biopsy, I think this is Claude's 5th biopsy in his lifetime. He's 11 years old, I'm afraid of the anesthesia. That period of waiting for Dr. Ringler to call and tell me the results. My stupid head won't let me even consider the positive, the only place my head goes is the dark cancer-filled place.
I don't really care if people don't get it, if they think I'm some sort of nut. I love this cat more than anything in this world except my parents and every time I've gone through this it tears at me. Having to wait a week is killing me already, I know one week won't make a difference but I can't help the doom-mongering. I don't want to hear "if you had only brought him in sooner."
My Claudie. My very bestest friend and my fuzzy little 9 pound baby. I can't stand this, I really can't fucking stand this.
Cross your fingers for us.
(post-script) Needless to say my head is in bad shape. I think I'm just going away from the computer for a while, I'm dizzy, haven't slept and I feel like crap. Maaaan, could I use some good news now.
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