I want to sincerely thank all of you for your support right now. It really means a lot!
Note: This post will have some swearing. If this offends you, don’t read.
I’ve never been one to talk about my problems or feelings with others. If you don’t believe me, I’ll give you Kyle and my mom’s phone numbers and they can tell you it’s like pulling teeth. Not just pulling human teeth, but like pulling teeth from a wild mama raccoon protecting her babies. I just don’t like it.
That being said, for some reason writing this post was a tiny bit cathartic. And reading all of your blogs and stalking you on Instagram/Twitter gives my mind a brief break. I hope to get back to regular blogging soon, but for right now please don’t be offended by my lack of presence. I am reading your posts, but sometimes I don’t feel like “talking” back.
Some of you might already know from Instagram, but they found a tumor in my kitty’s small intestine. I’ve had this kitty since the second grade. <–reason why I want to punch happy people
She was MY first pet (we had family pets). For the longest time (until college), she would not come near other people, including my family. She only hung out with me. Every time I’m sick, she sleeps on my belly the whole day. At dinner, she sits behind me on my chair. She used to even hop in the shower with me. Kyle was actually the first non-family member she sat on and allowed to pet. (FYI She’s a lot friendlier with the family now)
Snickers had started vomiting on Thursday but I gave her until Saturday to stop. She’s been known to eat her food so quickly that she throws it up, so I needed to make sure I wasn’t overreacting. Plus, she was acting completely normal otherwise. Saturday I went to see the vet and they did blood work and took an X-ray. At the time, the vet wasn’t sure what “the obstruction” was in her small intestine. She was hoping it was a massive hairball. I was told to switch Snickers to baby food for a few days to give her tummy a break, but if she continued to vomit, we needed to take her back in.
Monday I had to take her back to the vet. This time they did an ultrasound and a specialist looked at her old X-ray. He is 99% positive it’s a tumor. The naive part of me is hoping the doctors are fucking idiots and I could hook an air compressor up to Snickers’ mouth and shoot the hairball out of her ass…
The vet told me the news and tears started pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I was given a few options for treatment:
- Chemo– As much as I would like to think this would solve the problem, I cannot make her go through that. She HATES the vets’ office. It’s stressful, they would have to sedate her, and it would require weekly visits. Her last months would be hell.
- Surgery to remove the tumor– this one is still in consideration. The problem with surgery is that she already has a heart murmur (born with it), her kidneys are bad (a problem we have been managing for the past year or so), and now she has a thyroid condition. She’s a fucking piñata of medical conditions and if we pop her open, I’m afraid of what could come spilling out. I was however told that her quality of life would not be diminished if we went through with the surgery. BUT they just don’t know how much more time this would give her.
- Cortisone shots– we’ve given her one so far. In some cases, this can temporarily stop the vomiting and give her small intestine a break. We don’t know if it will work, but this can be done once a month if successful.
Needless to say, Monday was a shitfest of a day. I was angry, confused, sad, and happy when I was in front of Snickers. I truly believe that pets can tell when you’re upset, and I didn’t want her to think anything was wrong. Like I said, she doesn’t act sick except for the vomiting. Luckily I had Kyle there to drive me to and from the vet’s office, hold me when I was sobbing uncontrollably, and stay until I fell asleep.
Tuesday was really hard again. It doesn’t help when a coworker asks, “Are you okay? Your eyes look tired and puffy.”
Thanks. I wanted to yell, “No, my cat is dying. Go jump off a fucking bridge.” But I smiled and said, “I’m fine.”
Today I’m doing better so far. My emotions are a little spastic right now though. I never know when I’ll just start tearing up. Or if I’ll want to rip your head off.
I really just need to find a phone booth.
So for now, I’m smothering Snickers with love. I spend as much time with her as I can. I hate leaving for work…
Thanks for listening. Sorry if I sound like a whiny bitch. I am. But if you tell me that, I’d tell you how much it’s going to hurt when I shove your own head up your ass.