Meloxicam

Today we started Duncan on Meloxicam, which is like asprin for pets. In one case, it shrunk a tumor. At the very least it will relieve any inflamation from the cancer. At best, it will slow the growth.

Today it's very sunny and warm. Duncan was enjoying laying out in a sunbeam on the porch. That's his favorite. I seeded the lawn. And why not? Although most people add steer manure. I think that would really mess up the cats. Could be fun! Maybe they'll think we adopted a bull.

Meowstrong

I talked to the oncologist tonight. I asked him what he would do and he said he
would do
radiation and surgery, but then he would always do the most radical treatment
because he
is an oncologist. And I think that's what makes him a very good oncologist.
But I still
don't think that is the way I want to go with Duncan. I am really interetsed in
the
interlesionary chemo. It's a pretty easy treatment adn I guess it is somewhat
effective. It's
just that it's not curative. And I've already come to terms with that. I am
not expecting a
cure. I did that with surgery and it didn't work, so I have no expaectations
for a cure for
Duncan at all. Just something to slow it all down a bit. And interlesionary
chemo seems
to be the best solution. And Meloxicam.

Duncan is so cuddly. He's very happy right now. I just want to keep it that
way.

I ordered wrinstbands like the Live Strong ones except mine say MEOWSTRONG. They're gray and white like Duncan. I just got them in last week. Russ gave Dr Nunez one today and he almost cried. It's so nice to know so many people will be united for one kitty by a little wristband.

Sword of Damocles

Duncan went to see Dr Johnny Chretin at VCA today to see what choices
we had. He was very, very dismayed that the cancer had returned. We
had HUGE clean margins. He went through all the possible choices with
the caveat that Duncan might not qualify for some of these if further
tests reveal more kidney disease or metastasis. The choices in order are:
1. 20 days of radiation followed by surgery, which would be very
difficult given the location of the tumors.
2. just surgery, which we know won't get clean margins
3. just radiation, which would be harder on him than surgery, so it
was recommended that if we do radiation, surgery would be a cake walk.
4. full body chemo, which seems to have limited success
5. localized chemo which would be difficult to do on a tumor his size
6. anti-inflammatories and the like

I was amazed that the radiation and surgery would run $8,000. Wow.
Radiation alone is $6,000.

It's so hard to make a decision. We can't figure out why the cancer
came back. And Dr Chretin had never personally seen a cat with
liposarcoma. It's just not that common. There is a chance that the
sub-Q fluids are what he's having a reaction to, which kills me
because in essence, WE gave him cancer. Of course, he can't survive
without the fluids either. Poor guy is resting right under the Sword
of Damocles.

That said, I'm not completely convinced that an expensive, radical,
painful proceedure is in order simply because it didn't work last
time. Meaning, the cancer came back. What if we do the surgery with
radiation, put the little guy through hell and it comes back in 6
months again? We're going to sleep on it and try to figure it out. I
feel like a deer in headlights. I probably look like one too.

LipoSirDuncan

Well, our worst fears have been realized. Sir Duncan's liposarcoma has returned. I'm not sure, as I mentioned before, that we have many treatment options. Wow. I really thought going through the amputation would have given us much more time. I was counting on a year. I suppose I should have the vet contact the oncologist, although I have a feeling his response will be that we could do radiation if we want to, and frankly I don't really want to. I think it will be way too hard on his kidneys. I know I should be more willing to fight, but I feel drawn to resignation. I suppose that's the depression. And knowing that we did so much last time and it didn't help much.

We're going to see if the homeopathic stuff keeps the tumor growth in check. I forgot what it's called. Don't you wish there was a magic creme that would dissolve tumors? Like Compound W for cancer?

Do cats get night sweats? Duncan seems very hot at night. Not like a fever, because his ears are cool. It just seems like he's generating a lot of heat.

Hope all you Floridians are OK......

Dr Bamford, the holistic vet, did a FNA yesterday as she was concerned about one of the lumps. The one closest to the scar she is not worried about. But one on his right shoulder gave her pause. It's a little big and she couldn't feel all the way around it. It seems to be attached to his scapula. That worried her. So, we'll wait until we hear back. She is also in agreement that surgery would not be recommended because there would be no way to get clean margins. But she also agreed that Duncan seems not to be bothered at all by it. We'll continue to hug him as much as possible.

Meantime, Russ tells me the character I voice in Chicken Little, Hollywood Abby, is featured in the new ads for the film. Yay. At least it keeps me distracted.

Mr Lumpy

Russ is taking Duncan to our holistic vet today. His lumps (there are 4 now) are getting a little bigger. I want to get Dr Bamford's opinion on the consistancy of the lumps. They feel squishy to me, which is inconsistant with liposarcoma.

I feel strangely calm about all this, not like the first round. I chalk this up to:
1. Complete Denial
2. Acceptance of the Inevitable
OR
3. An Instictive Notion that It's Not Cancer.

At any rate, I feel our treatment options are narrow. Surgery is not a possibility. And given Duncan's kidneys, I'm not sure chemo or radiation would be good for him. The most curious thing is that the tumors came back about 2 inches or more distal to the surgery. Given that he had remarkably clean, wide margins, it just seems odd.

I had the vet reread the X-rays from August. He verified that there was absolutely no sign of cancer as of August 23. My regular vet has been very hands off, not really recommending treatment probably because he's reading that I'm not receptive to it.

Well, I'll let you know what Dr Bamford says.

My Lumpy Cat

Poor little Duncan. He now has 4 lumps. I found one over the weekend, again the size of a pea, on the left of his spine in the area of his amputation. This makes me think it is in fact a return of the cancer. The other 3 lumps were well on the right side of his spine, not that close to the scar. But they all have the same behavior of starting out like a pea shaped thing and then flattening out to teh size of a dime. Meantime, he acts like nothing is wrong. He did go through a weird thing with his diet. He just decided he didn't like his food and snubbed most all of it. He's really into Cluck-a-Doodle-Doo. It's a fish flavor - go figure.

Speaking of cluck, we went to the Chicken Little wrap party on Saturday and had the most fabulous time. The party was huge and the bars were plentiful. There was karaoke, so needless to say, there was Russ and Dara singing karaoke. Photo to follow.

The movie turned out well; rather cute actually. But my thoughts turn to Duncan.

Not Again

Back in August, we took Duncan for his 6 month check up complete with x-rays. Everything came out clear! No metastisis! Lungs are clear! We were so happy. And just in time. The summer had been wrought with other personal stresses. Finally, 2005 seemed to be heading for a happy ending. Then about 1 week later, I found 3 small lumps on Duncan's right side near his spine. Russ was speaking at the time, but his voice trailed off as I shifted focus from the conversation to the little masses underneath poor Duncan's skin. I was devistated. Cancer? Again? But he just got a clean bill of health.

I decided to wait until after Seattle to mention it. The lumps were still there. So I wrote a post about it in the VAS Yahoo group. Everyone was optimistic. And we decided a FNA wouldn't hurt. So I think I might go in for that. I guess. Does it help to know? Especially if there is nothing we can do? Maybe we just ignore it until he starts to feel bad. What to do.......

For now Duncan is happy and energetic as always. I wish he stayed like this always.

Control This

For years, man has tried to control his environment. And when he could not control it, he invented various gods that could. These gods could be swayed with gifts or sacrifices to control the environment in a particular fashion. If events occured which did not suit your tastes, then clearly your gifts or sacrifices were not as good as the other guy's. Much like two football teams on Superbowl Sunday. The winner inevitably states that God was on their side. Apparently, God has never been a Bills fan. Or a Cubs fan if you're more into the summer sports. But you get my point. Events which you can't control must be controlled by some other being. Somebody HAS to be in control. Things don't just happen, right?

And why is not being in control a bad thing? Sometimes things happen outside your control that are good. Such as rain in a drought or winning the lottery.

And sometimes things happen outside your control that are not good. Such as cancer or strokes. Or loss. Sometimes loss is outside your control. And there is nothing worse than watching something you love slip through your fingers, drifting away, getting smaller and smaller, fainter and fainter, until it's only a memory. There is nothing you can really do about it. You scream and cry and beg for it to stay. But there you are at the endof it all alone and quiet. And wondering what in the world you did (or didn't do) to make someone you love so much want to leave.

But like the ancients who tried to appease the gods, in the end it's all futile. For death is death and all things must die. Moms, cats, love. Nothing lasts forever.

We made it!

YAY! I wanted to wait until we were well into July to finally admit that the psychic was WRONG and Duncan lived past June. My friend suggested I go back to the psychic and demand to know why she thought she was wrong. I just want to celebrate the fact that she was. I never really believed that Duncan would only live four months. But let me tell you, I was up until 11:15 June 30 worrying about it. I finally decided that the last 45 minutes were pretty safe and went to bed. He's just as cute and cuddly as ever. He's chased his toy bee, he's jumped down from the sink, he's even started greeting us at the door, which I thought he would never do again. He seems to be loving life to the fullest and I couldn't be prouder!

Russ is a different story however. A month ago, he started having tremors in his left hand, the same one that was numb back in March. Today he went to the Dr for a check up. The doctor was not at all pleased about the tremors, yet declined to say what he thought it was. So, that makes us nervous. We find out more next week. Until then our minds race with thoughts of Parkinsons or MS or brain tumors....Scary........

Dream On

I had a very strange dream last night. It might have been a past life recollection.


I was traveling across some land which was hilly and green. I was on the ground but not in a car. I looked up and saw several winged people carrying non-winged people. The winged ones sported beautiful light pink and white feathered wings. They were beautiful. I couldn’t believe that someone had made wings that you could actually use to fly. Then I came into a large building with many rooms. There was a lot of activity. There were elders that had gathered as well. Everyone was preparing me and one other person for a trip. We were the only 2 people allowed into the “enemy’s” camp. We had some sort of guild membership which allowed us to enter their land. Everyone was giving me supplies for the trip. My ex-husband's Mom gave me a gold bowl which had been hammered into it’s shape. She also gave me a green piece of mid-century pottery that her mother had made. It was sort of a long cigar shaped bowl, like an olive dish. I was afraid it would break, so I left it behind. And I thought the gold bowl would be much luckier. I was also given some kind of object to give to the enemy, nothing dangerous or aggressive. I was concerned that I couldn’t carry all these things and steer the animal I was to ride. I don’t remember if it flew or not, only that it had reigns.



Isn’t that weird? The only thing I did even remotely close to any of this was attend Irish class, but we read a contemporary story. I have no idea what this means

Has Been

I got something today I haven't received in years: a request from a casting director. I stopped acting professionally in 1998, just before the big commercial strike. It was a well timed retirement, considering. But all of my calls had become "bite and smiles" which is the sort of commercial where you take a bite of something and become orgasmic about it's taste. I'm not a good bite and smile candidate. That's more of a tooth model job. One of my last auditions consisted of me talking to a camera, alone, while the casting people gnawed newly arrived KFC. No one noticed when I left the room, the chicken was more interesting. Another was for Knorr soups, which had decided to call itself "Ka-Norr." We all joked about "ka-nocking" before we entered. It was a stupid commercial. A business women is waiting for her luggage at LAX and worrying about what to cook for dinner. Suddenly a chef rolls by on the luggage carousel, as they do. He gives her a meal short-cut with Ka-Norr. She is pleased. I would have thought they wanted a commercial, over-the-top sort of read. I mean it's a chef on the luggage thing. But once I got in front of the camera, the casting people told me to read it very straight, very subtle. OK. I read it as deadpan as I could. No reaction. They looked at each other and said, "Well, it's VERY subtle, almost dramatic." "Yes," the other casting person remarked, "but she could give it a bit more reaction. Maybe she's frightened by the chef." What?? We're inventing way too much back story here. And I was intimidated by the 17 six-foot tall models out in the lobby waiting to come in. Clearly a five-foot character actress was not what they wanted. I just reacted. I said, "It's not fucking Shakespeare." They stopped, stared at me...and politely said thank you, that is all. And I never went back to that studio again.

Life, Misery and Other Excuses

I hate it when people say they were going to do something but something else got in the way. "I was going to bake a cake for you, but it got late." "We were going to make it to your party, but he didn't feel well." They are all mild excuses for missing out on an event, an occasion or an obligation. Mostly they are kinder ways of saying “I don’t want to hang out with you – you’re boring.” But they can also be truly tragic. “I missed the party because my husband was in the hospital.”



When did life get so complicated that we have to make excuses? What are we missing when we don’t see through our obligations? Are we just losing sleep or are we missing true opportunities?



Saturday night, Russ and I went to see our friend Eva’s play. She wrote and produced it. Usually, that’s a bad sign. We thought about not going. We were tired. We’re always tired it seems. But we went, convinced we’d make the best of it. What we found was an astounding play, unbelievably good. Written by a 24 year old. I’m 40 and I haven’t’ done anything even close. The play made us feel great for seeing our friend’s remarkable talent. And then we felt bad because we’re underachievers. Then I decided to blog. Maybe it’s a start. On what, I have no idea. But I woke up with this title. Maybe I can think of something to fill up the rest.

Hello Again

What a busy 2 weeks a work! I'm working on a couple of shots for a CG animated movie. I'm trying to render different levels of the scene for an artist to composite. But my renders were coming out all black. Sort of like a polaroid that gets pulled apart before it develops. That is the OLD polaroids that you had to separate not the new ones that just develop before your eyes. I'm babbling.

Tomorrow I"m planting a bunch of plants in the garden. I'm making one spot for Chelsea, one of the VAS cats who left us on Tuesday. Something about her touched my heart. Many of the VAS cats do, but I felt the need to make something for Chelsea. Maybe because she liked gardens so much. I picked some whote flowers with one orange striped gazania, since that was Chelsea's color. I hope they survive. How horrible to plant a tribute that then dies itself. Then you would have to plant a tribute to the tribute. I hope it doesn't get carried away.

I'm doing almost entirely gardening this weekend. I think I have found a new obsession. Once back at work on Tuesday, we have the opportunity to meet the original Luke Skywalker, Mark Hamill. I'm very excited, but I think Russ is even more so even though he doesn't get to meet him in first person. He'll have to rely on my version of the visit.

Duncan is fine though. His hair is growing back and he seems so happy, except for an abcessed tooth. But we're trying some homeopathic stuff. Good boy Duncan!

Long time no blog

My bad. There actually have been developments, which I will now catch up on.

First, the biggest. Hawaii. It was great. We snorkled an dsaw lots of cute fish. I liked to chase them around the coral.. I doubt they enjoyed that, but hey, better than having someone tap on the fishtank. We stayed at a really fun hotel with a Tiki Bar full of Shag paintings. The food was great. We ventured north and did the Shrimp Truck and more snorkling. Then Russ cut his heel on coral and it would not stop bleeding. So we had to head back to the hotel and drop off the car. We went to the Urgent Care place, but they didn't take our insurance. At this point, I was on the beach waiting because it was so COLD in that office. Russ phoned me to say he was on his way to the ER where they would take his insurance. He gave me an out which I quickly took to not stay with him at the ER. I took the time to shop for trinkets for my family so it worked out OK, except of course that Russ was in the hospital. Is that cold? The next day, poor Russ was depressed and stayed in and watched TV while I took a surfing lesson. I had to. When would I get another chance to surf on Waikiki Beach?

When we returned home, Duncan was doing great. More energy and interest than I have seen from him in a long time. Even since before the surgery. Then he started on this weird series of constipation/diarrhea. It's been going on for 2 weeks now. Not sure if the enema and medications have completly disrupted his system or if he has something going on there, some disease. I've got him off meds now to see if he can right himself through diet alone. We hope for the best. But his energy level is really good.

Of course as soon as I started to write this, some work has come in, so I"ll have to finish this later. I promise.

It's not Amway

"I'd like to share the good news with you."

Growing up in the South, this was a warning sign. Someone was either about to talk to you about Jesus or Amway. The latter involved a lengthy pitch that ended with a soap-buying spree. The former was much shorter and ended in either a cult or being tipped backwards into some type of water - a lake, river or in most cases a small pool.

Maybe I'm just too nervous to talk about good things. Maybe I'm afraid I'll jinx it and bad things will happen. Or maybe I'm just afraid I'll be mistaken for Mormons.

I"m finally feeling back to normal. So is Duncan. So is Russ. Wednesday night, Duncan sat in the kitchen with me for hours and helped me make Irish Brown bread for cheese club at work and a coconut cake for no reason in particular. We had a good time. Russ is feeling much better and getting ready to end one of his medications. I've started running again. I tried to pick up where I left off, but too much time had passed. My knees weren't keen on the idea of running 9 miles last week. Or 8 or 7. They gave out after 2. So, I have to start over a bit. Today, we would have been touring Dublin and getting over jetlag. Maybe seeing Kilmainham jail or the Book of Kells again, or perhaps St. Patricks Cathedral for Good Friday. Instead, I'm putting in a composter. We leave for Hawaii on April 11. I'm very excited about that trip, even though it's uncharacteristic of us to a. visit a crowded city and stay there and b. not go to the UK. Well, got shake it up I guess.

And I'm not complaining. I'm not. I'm thinking. And learning. And trying to figure out what happened. I know who I was going in, but I need to figure out who I am coming out. It's all been like an Easy-bake oven. And I'm that crappy little metal pan that you used to fill with a tiny amount of cake batter and let it cook under a light bulb. If you left it in too long, it didn't really burn so much as dry up around the edges. Hopefully, I'm still moist. Although I've been under the light bulb too long.

Just when you thought it was safe...

Sunday morning, I picked out the perfect Hawaiian vacation. It's a cute hotel, on teh beach in Waikiki, coudn;t be better. We decided that we NEED to get away and a few days on the beach sounded like the perfect thing. Then Russ mentioned that his left hand had become numb. We decided to wait a few hours to see if it got better. After lunch, he started not feeling well at all. Then by 1, he made the call: Let's go to the emergency room! At 3:30, he had a preliminary screening. His blood pressure was 195 over 110. Impossible for someone who runs 30 miles a week. They were concerned. And with the numbness, a stroke was a possibility. So, they admitted him. This was 8pm. I ran home, fed the cats and explained to Duncan that now it is Russ' turn to be in the hospital. Paxton was indifferent as always. He's a good cat - he just goes with the flow. Good thing I didn't book the vacation, I thought. If he has any sign of stoke he can't fly. I spent the first night ever in a hospital that night, as did Russ. We had no idea how noisey those things get at night. Hospitals are not made for sleeping. There were doctors and nurses coming in and out at all hours. Yesterday, more tests. MRI, ultrasound, echo cardiogram. All negative, which is good. But the numb hand has everyone stumped. So we stayed again last night. Poor Russ finally slept because they gave him a sedative for the MRI. Here I am at home trying to catch up on things, care for the cats, etc. Duncan keeps throwing up this morning. I may have to take him to HIS hospital later if he can't hold down food. I'm going to take a nap for now though. I'm tired and I can't type properly. More later, I promise.

No more stitches

Yesterday, Duncan had his stitches out. He's such a good little cat! He actually seems to be enjoying the car. And of course his jazz. We've also discovered that he's not a big fan of the Beatles. We are crushed at this news. Since he had the stitches out, he's been really trying to get back to ALL his old stuff. He still walks funny though. If you get on all fours (I did this while trying to imagine how hard it was going to be for Duncan) and walk around, then try taking out the front left leg, you will notice that you have to use the right one twice as much. I thought it wouldbe more of a "waltz." But it is like a synchopated tempo with a distinct THUD on beats 2 and 4. His back is very arched and he keeps his upper body low to the ground. But he gets along pretty fast. And he has been up to the top of the sofa so he can look out the window. And last night he started demanding things like food. It's all very heart warming.

Meantime, the vacation plans are all over the place. We don't want to leave Duncan too long. But I won't get another chunk of time for a year. So, the tick will be to find the compromise. And NO I am not going to Temecula for vacation, and that's final!

But since we're not running in the half marathon, I wonder, "Why am I still running?" TBD.

Turning the corner

Duncan had such a great day yesterday. He's climbing up on chairs, which is good. He's starting to get the idea that he can get around on his own. So, today I went home at lunch as I have been to feed him and take him to his box. After he ate, he walked to the box on his own and then walked out to the back porch, down 2 stairs. That's really good! He was taking breaks along the way and resting, but pretty much getting where he wanted to get. I changed clothes and went out for a 3 mile run, leaving the guys on the back porch where they could hang out and watch the world. It's all fenced, so no worries about getting out. And they can get back in the house when they need to. On my run, I came up with a clever plan to put a board on the bed like a plank. So Duncan can simply walk up and down to get on or off the bed. I was so excited at the prospect that Duncan could be completely independent and then I won't have to check on him at lunch any more! When I came back, I expected to find the cats still on the porch, with Duncan probably sniffing around the cactus. What I found however was both cats ON THE BED. So, Duncan walked back in the house and somehow got back on the bed all by himself. I have no idea how, but I can assume he jumped and probably pulled himself up by one leg. He was just falling asleep as I inspected him to make sure he had nothing strained or broken. He seems fine. Amazing creatures they are!!!!

So at this point I feel so much better about Duncan, the whole process, the cancer that is probably entirely out of Duncan and sitting in a lab somewhere in LA county. I wonder if cancer keeps growing on the tissue even after it has been excised from a living body. How long can it sustain itself? Does it keep growing until it turns into a blob and takes over a small town until those rebel teens led by a young Steve McQueen beat it into submission with a a massive blast of chemo?

And now the running. Russ and I have been training to run a half marathon in Ireland March 27. We've been training since last August. But now the trip is in jeopardy. So much money has been spent on Duncan, plus up until today, we weren't sure about leaving him with a sitter. And then Russ' project is over in 2 weeks not 8 as expected, so he has not work coming in. And I never bought airline tickets because I was waiting on those winter deals but they just didn't coincide with my plans. What to do? Duncan has turned a corner, a big corner, in his recovery. But have I?

*Maybe* cancer free

Yesterday the surgeon called to check on Duncan. He's doing pretty good. Everyday gets a little better. He's eating well. He loves going outside to sit in the sun. He's still not moving around on his own very much. And yesterday he was a little cranky. I think his compression bandage being off made him a little sore. But today he seems happier. He's starting to venture out a little more, climbing up the 2 stairs from the porch to the house and climbing down from a counter to my lap. That latter one is important because climbing down is much , much harder on a front amputee. His scar is pretty funky. He looks like a Sharpei under his t-shirt. So, I think we'll leave that on for a while. The surgeon mentioned that there was way more skin on the front than the back part of the wound so she had to gather it and attach it. It looks like he has a ruffle. Creepy. And she pulled the skin from his belly up to his side. So he has a nipple on his side. And that cute pink underbelly that cats have is also now in full view on his left. He's really disfigured actually. I'm glad he has no vanity. Dignity, perhaps. And that's what stops me from dressing him up in little costumes that you can buy at the Build-A-Bear store. It's just not right for him to be dressed in a Lakers jersey just to cover his gnarly wound. The surgeon, Dr Tina Owen, whom Duncan calls Dr Tuna, said that the lab report came back and it looks like they got a complete resection. They will go back and check the cells on the perimeter to insure that none of them are malignant. At that point, we can consider Duncan to be cancer free.

I feel a bit better about the whole thing . It still kills me to see him struggle and get frustrated. I just wish we could have saved his leg.