And I’m Looking From A Distance And I’m Listening To The Whispers
And so, the cat’s sick.
To be fair, the cat’s never not been sick at any point in the last… two? Three, maybe? years; it’s just that we’ve been keeping her cancer under control with medication, and she’s seemed fine as she outlived the “three months left” prognosis by more than eight times that amount. But this past weekend, that clearly changed; she stopped eating, but wouldn’t stop vomiting, lost all energy, started crawling under furniture and crying continuously. We took her to the vet on Monday, convinced that we’d have to put her down, completely heartbroken.
And the vet said, it might not be the cancer. Let’s run some tests and keep her in overnight. And, hours later, the vet called and said, we don’t think it’s cancer, we think it’s anemia, which can probably be treated. But why don’t you take her to your oncologist? So, on Tuesday, hopes slightly raised, we did. And the oncologist said, it’s not anemia, her bloodwork is pretty much the same as it’s always been. It’s possible that the cancer has grown to new organs, or it may be that her medication is also making her sick. We got new medication and brought her home, with the idea of waiting a few days to see how she reacts.
But last night, she just didn’t seem any better. She’s still not eating, and still has no energy. She’s not hiding under furniture, and not crying as much, but we can’t stop thinking that every possibility – that the cancer is all through her body, making her not want to eat and unable to keep food down when she does, or that the medication that’s keeping her cancer in check has decided to also attack her on a new front, or that it’s something else entirely that they don’t know about but would require invasive procedures to identify and maybe couldn’t be treated anyway – is a bad one, and that maybe it’s more humane, a better thing, to say goodbye.
It’s a cliche to say that I love Luna unconditionally, but it’s true. I love how talkative she is, or the way she purrs when she sits beside me. I love the way she’d sleep beside me in the bed, pretty much on my head, and the way she’d think that smacking me awake was the most direct way to let me know she wanted food. She could be annoying, frustrating and greedy, but I love everything about her. Considering a life without her seems cruel, even if it’s the best thing to do.
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