The worst waiting game ever...

I found this draft post that I never finished, and one that I don't think I CAN finish - but I decided to post it anyway.  Everyone knows the outcome of the story - but I think for me, I need to post this:

I've turned into a stalker.   I really don't have a choice.  I guess I do, everyone has choices.  But this one doesn't feel like a choice.  I'm a player in a waiting game.  A game I never wanted to play.

Just the other day, I posted on the milestone Willy had reached - 120 days.  I could see him adding another month and hopefully even more because of how good he's been doing.

Day 122 dawned, and he didn't seem to be feeling well, so I took him to the vet just for a check.  His blood work was all good, weight was stable.  He was a little dehydrated, so they gave him some fluids.  I could pick him up any time after 3:30 that afternoon.  He acted like he still wasn't feeling that great, but more than that, he seem to act like he was upset with me for taking him to the vet.  I can understand that, he's been poked and prodded A LOT during the past five months, and I'm sure he's tired of it.

Day 123 arrived, and he seemed better.  It was a crazy day for me, but I ended up having a late lunch and dashed home to check on him.  He was better, but still a little aloof.  I went to dinner with a friend and brought home leftovers.  He enjoyed the shrimp.

Day 124, as soon as I open my eyes, somethings not right.  It's 5:50 am and usually, when I wake up and start stirring around, he takes full advantage of that and demands his breakfast.  I couldn't find him.  I woke Chris up, and we both looked for him.  I was getting panicky.  And, true to form, we turned around and there he sits, and us with no idea where he came from.  But, he was in the meatloaf position.  A position that I've learned that cats assume when they aren't feeling well.  He did eat his breakfast, so I felt better about that.

I decided he was going to work with me.  So, I loaded him up, and off to work we went.  He wouldn't come out of his carrier for more than a minute.  Late morning, he ventured out and laid down in the litter pan and stayed there.  That of course concerned me.  I counted his respiration rate.  It was 86.  So, I called the vet.  It was the new vet, fresh out of school.  As a matter of fact, she was at the University while Willy was a patient there.  He wasn't on any of her services though.  She was familiar with him though when I called, my vet had given her his vital information.

She told me that he was critical, and he only had days, if not hours to live.  My mind knew it, but my heart couldn't wrap around it.  I took him home and the wait started.  I stalked his every moment, wherever he was, there I was.  Chris would relieve me so I could sleep some.  If Willy was in the closet, so was I, lying there right beside him.
*****
That's as far as I got, I assume it got too painful to complete.

Heart on the mend

My heart is raw with grief over the loss of Willy.  The two weeks since his death have been so very difficult.  The tears have been either free flowing, or just under the surface ready to start running, which they do more often than not.  I am able to control them a little better though when I'm somewhere other than at home.

My routines have been shaken. Willy isn't there to wake me up in the morning by stepping on my hair until I give in and get up.  When I do get up, there's no need to get his breakfast ready, the house is silent, and still.  Too still.  Chris is still sleeping and I'm so alone, so very alone, missing my baby boy.  I try to stay on my loose schedule for getting ready for work.  10 - 15 minutes are cut off my time, there's no litter box to scoop, no water bowls to fill, no hair ball paste to give, no treats to give, no medication to give, no little boy to pick up and love on before I head out the door to work.  There's only a spot beneath the trees in the back yard to look at, and to tell my little boy that Mama loves him and to be a sweet boy.  That's what I told him every time I left the house.

When I come home, there's no supper to feed my little boy.  When I go to bed, he's not there to go with me and make biscuits at the foot of the bed, or lie on my side, or my chest.

I miss those things.  I miss watching Willy enjoying the back porch, and getting out there through the cat door Chris installed.  I miss seeing him sitting at the big door waiting for someone to open it for him because he didn't want to be bothered to use the cat door. I bought this house so Willy could have a screened in porch.

The lizards are safe now without Willy on the prowl.

I miss the way he'd come stand on my lap top when he wanted attention.

I miss the way he'd be waiting for me when I'd come out of the bathroom.

I miss giving him catnip, and watching him enjoy it.

I miss watching him sharpen his claws on the scratcher.

I miss watching him play with his toys, that boy loved his toys.

I miss seeing him stretched out on the floor.

I miss seeing him enjoying the swing.

I miss seeing him lying on the bench, or in the sunlight.

I miss seeing him go to a sunny spot in front of the window in the mornings after he'd eat his breakfast.

I miss catching him on the counter top or on the table, where he knew he wasn't supposed to be.  I miss the expression on his face when I'd catch him.

I miss his purr.

I miss scooping him up and giving him kisses.

I miss the feel of his fur.

I miss him running to the pantry every time I would walk through the house, and him talking to me as he ran ahead of me.

I miss giving in and giving him a treat most times he "asked".

I miss him showing up just as we are about to sit down at the dinner table, his timing impeccable.

I miss how he used to sit right next to me, in his chair, waiting patiently on the next morsel.

I miss his meow.

I miss him, I miss Willy, my little boy who I loved for 12 years and 2 months, who I continue to love even though his body isn't here.

I miss so much more.

I'm glad to say that there are some things that I don't miss.  I don't miss hemobartonellis, I don't miss chondrosarcoma, I don't miss diabetes,  and most of all, I don't miss hemangiosarcoma.

I am glad that Willy is at peace, free of pain, free of suffering, free of feeling badly.  I am glad that we had 129 days after the tumor was first seen on x-ray to love him.  I know that I did everything I possibly could to give him as much good quality of life possible.  I know that Chris did everything he could.

I felt, and I do still feel so helpless against those tiny microorganisms that wreaked havoc on his small body.  I'm so angry that Willy was dealt such an awful hand.  I think he handled everything that was thrown at him like a champ.  Everyone at every vet appointment we took him to, talked about how sweet and lovable he is.  It warms my heart to know that others feel the same way I do about him.  I am so lucky to have so many people who care about Willy, and about me and Chris, and about what we've been through.  We have an amazing support system.

My heart is slowing mending, although it will never be complete.  Someone said to me that I have a Willy shaped spot in my heart, that only he can fill. 

Grief is a horrible thing, it is overwhelming.  I don't ever want to experience it again.

Willy......... April 23, 1998 - June 21, 2010

Day 129, that's how far we got.  129 days, I feel robbed.  Willy and I had a 20 year plan.  Damn that hemangiosarcoma., 12 years and 2 months, and I had to let my little boy go.  Mama loves you.  You be a sweet boy.

Milestone

We made it to another milestone yesterday.  It was day 120, or in other words 4 months since Willy's tumor was detected.  Now we're on our way to our next milestone, 1 day in and counting. He's already beat the 80 days by 21.  He is doing so well.  His hair is growing back at a pretty good pace.  I'll be glad when it is back.  I'd say it's about 1/3 of the way there, maybe a little more.

This morning, I spent some time tossing out some of his toys that have seen better days and kept his favorites.  Of course, that sparked some interest in what was put back in the box.  He has a mat for scratching that he used to lay on all of the time.  He hasn't been interested in it for months.  I sat down with a brush and got all of the cat hair off of it. and noticed a zipper on the back.  I unzipped it and pulled out a bag of catnip, one I'm assuming has lost it's zip - therefore, the loss of interest in the mat. 

I got up to go get some catnip to refresh it, and came back to find him lying on the mat, (curiosity & cat... what can you say?)  I got out my camera to take a few photos.  I changed it to record when he started chasing his tail.  I've always wanted a video of him chasing his tail, but never could seem to get one.  So, catching that on tape made me happy.  I'll try to get it uploaded soon.

Thanking God every day for the fact that Willy is doing so well.  Believing for many more of those good days.

Day by day

Numbers - I've never particularly cared for numbers.  But, my sister on the other hand has made numbers her career.

Numbers can signify how much weight you need to loose, what your various lab values in your bloodwork are, your birthday, how old you are,  how many siblings you have, your number of friends on Facebook, miles per gallon your car gets or how many miles you've traveled, and how many frequent flyer miles you get for those you actually traveled.  Numbers show your bank balance or lack thereof or even how much sugar to put in cookie batter.  You get the idea, numbers are everywhere.  Numbers can mean so many things.

Right now, my world is centered around numbers.  As in, number of days.  The type of cancer Willy has gives 20 - 80 days as the average survival rate after detection of tumor.

Our clock started on February 13, 2010.  That is the first time that we have evidence that there was a tumor.  It was over two months before we were able to put a name to the tumor, but detection of the tumor clock started on 2/13/10.

I went to the calendar that hangs by the back door, and I flipped back to Feb 13th and I started numbering.  Today I wrote his number on today's date. 

He's eating, he's sleeping, cat-napping, playing, being social, affectionate.  He spent part of the morning torturing another poor lizard who ventured into Willy's territory.   I was sitting on the sofa and Willy was in my lap when all of the sudden, he was off like he was shot out of a cannon, across the room, through the door, onto the porch, and in a matter of seconds he wandered back into the living room with his prize. I have to confess that I got out my camera and shot some video of the events following the capture.  I felt sorry for the lizard, I truly did, but for me, it was the joy of seeing my little boy active, feeling good, enjoying his life.  I can rewind and watch it as many times as I want to.

It's the times like this that I am glad that I opted for not giving him chemo.  I would not want him lying sick for days at a time, only to start feeling better and then us starting the cycle all over again with another dose of chemical in an IV. 

The increasing number on the calendar everyday lends to the feeling that I, that we, made the right decision.

I have added ES Clear to his daily regimen.  It's a combination of several herbs and it's made for cats with cancer.  I've read testimonials singing its praises.  I have to say, I was a little hesitant at first, especially when he threw up 3 different times after I started it.  But, I kept at it because he'd really just upchucked hair balls.  It is supposed to help rid the body of toxins, and I guess all that hair hanging around can't be a good thing. 

So, back to numbers - he'd gained a tad bit of weight when I took him in for a quick check earlier in the week,  all of the numbers on his last bloodwork looked good, and today, well, today - we made it to day 106.  Willy has already beaten the odds, and I can't help but feel good about that.

God is good! & Willy's results are too!

It's day 12, biopsy results were supposed to be back within 3-5 days.  I'm getting anxious, but ignorance is bliss.  I have prayed and have asked everyone I know and even strangers to pray for Willy, my 12 year old cat.

1 mass the size of an orange, with a smaller mass attached to it
1 small mass in the omentum
2 spots on his liver
2 skin lesions

... and one known chondrosarcoma on his toe. 

He has been recovering well, I'm happy with his progress.  I have prayed and prayed, and prayed some more.  I told a co-worker (who has a strong faith) just yesterday that it must be taking so long  because it must be something odd.  We laughed and agreed that it would have to be something odd because he was *my* cat. 

The phone rang today, the caller ID said blocked - which is what it says when they call me from UGA.  My stomach tightened up in a knot.  It was the surgeon.  He was calling to give me results.

The big mass, the one the size of a softball he calls it today - is odd.  Yep, he said it, odd.  He said they can't classify it.  That it is mostly necrosis.  They surmise that it was a previous mass of some sort that had a blood supply and lost that supply.  He said, we can't call it cancer, so we have to call it benign.  Thank you Jesus!

He said he the margins are clean and that they completely removed the mass.  They will continue to try to classify and identify the mass, and will update me if they come up with anything, but consider it benign.  It seems we stumped 'em.

1 small mass in the omentum -- a blood clot, benign.

2 spots on the liver -- benign

2 skin lesions -- benign, ulcerated skin resulting from clipper burn when they shaved him for the ultrasound.

Our God is a God of mercy, and I am so thankful to be one of his children. 

The diabetes turned out to be transient, and is now gone.

His anemia is gone.

He's on the road to recovery.

We still have the toe to deal with, and while I hate that he has to go through one more thing, I know it is the right thing to do for him. 

The thoughts that kept recurring during the waiting of the past 12 days were that we got him to the vet minutes before he would have died on April 19th.  We again got him to the vet minutes before he would have died on April 23rd.  That's the day we found out about the mass.  That was also his 12th birthday.

The week he was at UGA, God blessed me with the funds to cover the vet bill, so treatment costs weren't a factor.  I was able to cover the bill in full with some left over.

So, back to the thoughts -- why would he have survived those two very close brushes with death just the week before to have to battle a horrible disease?  Why would the funds just appear for me to be able to get him the care he needed without having to worry about the cost only to find out it was something bad?

Those thoughts gave me reason for hope.  My hope turned into joy today.  Again, thank you God, and thank you to everyone who prayed for my little boy. 

Willy photos

How many ways can you lie on a bench?

According to Willy, at least 3...

All of the above shots were pre-surgery.

This is Willy's first post op day, I was amazed at how good he looked and was getting around, and I was a bit shocked by his new hair style.

This next one is on post op day 2.  Chris went with me.  I love the way Willy is looking up at him.  (Hey Dude, can you get me outta here?)

Another one of his rock star hair style

First day home from the UGA Small Animal Teaching Hospital.

Feeling better... enjoying the swing on the screened in back porch.

Willy's story

So, we've been having quite a time with Willy on a medical front.  I've had Willy since he was only a few weeks old.  He fit in the palm of my hand.  Right from the start, he was my baby.  My baby is 12 years old now, and he weighs 14 lbs.

He's currently in ICU at the University of Georgia Small Animal Teaching Hospital. 

He had surgery on Thursday to remove a mass the size of an orange out of his abdomen.  They had to remove part of his colon, and they removed two other masses and took some biopsies of his liver.  We are waiting on pathology results.  We are praying, we are believing, we know that healing is available.  I am claiming healing for Willy.  

The skill of those caring for him at the hospital has been nothing short of excellent. We have been very pleased with their care.  I thank God for giving those skills, and caring hearts and hands.

Thank you to the staff of the UGA Small Animal Teaching Hospital for taking such good care of my little boy.  Thank you for being so kind to me and letting me visit.

Willy 1st post-op day

Willy's outdoor adventure

Chris said something that got me to thinking, it was about enjoyment, doing the things you enjoy.  So, I decided that all Willy's life, he has tried to escape to the outdoors - he would get as far as the nearest patch of grass and stop to eat.  We have a big dog pen in the back yard that does not have a dog - so I picked him up, and Willy, Chris and I walked out to the pen.

Chris thoughtfully brought the camera.  We let Willy down for a little while.

He started chewing on the nearest grass right away.

He got up and explored a little, I was nervous that he would climb up one of the trees and we'd be in a mess then, so I was 1 step behind him.

It came time to pick him up and head back inside, Chris said for me to be still.  I didn't know why until I saw this photo:

Yeah, so Willy had an outdoor adventure today, and I think he really enjoyed it.

All sorts of things suck this week

As if chondrosarcoma wasn't enough, we finally got good news on Willy's PCV so we could schedule his toe amputation. That was a Saturday, by the time Monday rolled around, I was getting ready for work and could tell something was wrong. I thought it was the hemobart again. I could see him going downhill fast.

I had to be at work for something I couldn't get out of, so we scooped him up and Chris took him to the vet, which thank goodness is only 5 minutes away. The vet called me and told me that when he arrived, he was open mouth breathing which apparently signals that cats are minutes from dying. I asked her to repeat that sentence, I couldn't have heart it correctly. But, I did. His blood sugar was 609 and he was hypothermic with a body temp of 95. Willy had quickly slipped into critical condition. The body temp could cause him to go into shock and his body systems could start shutting down.

I worked as long as I could and went to visit him and held him. His body temp had fallen to 93. I like to think my body heat helped. Finally, at 7:45, I got a call from the vet that his temp was up to 98.9.

She told me that the next 24 - 48 hours would be critical for him. He made it. I brought him home Thursday afternoon with insulin and instructions and new food and urine tests and a stomach full of nerves.

Giving the shot was easy, I'd given many to humans. A short time later, he was crashing again. We rubbed maple syrup on his gums as instructed. He peed on the rug, which he has never done in 12 years. A call to the vet, and more instructions and a diagnosis of what she thinks is a UTI.

I went to pick up new antibiotics and pain medication, and was happy to report that he was playful when I left. Shortly after getting home, I could tell he was crashing again.

Scoop and run again after another maple syrup gum rub. Upon arrival, his blood sugar was 26. (150 for a cat is normal). Insulin dose needs to come down from 3 units to 2. I can handle that.

The really sucky part? In the course of tests for the UTI, it was discovered that he has a plum sized bladder tumor. Talk about a punch in the stomach! Options, we're talking options now. I called Chris, who dropped everything and rushed to be with us. I needed him to hear the options, I didn't know if I was going to be able to talk, much less relay the information that was swimming in my head. I could see the devastation on Chris's face, it was palpable in that room.

If we decided by 4 pm that day, we could get a referral to the veterinary oncology department at UGA was one of the options. We decided we would take him home because he was so much better and would consider all of the options and let her know on Monday.

Chondrosarcoma still sucks.
Hemobartonellis still sucks.
Diabetes you suck.
Bladder tumor, you really suck.

Willy has the distinction of being the first cat in 9 years of the vet's practice to have a bladder tumor, and the first cat to have 4 concurrent deadly problems. That's a distinction we could live without.

We decided that we are going to take him to UGA for a non-invasive consult and see what they tell us. I can barely stand the pain in my heart.

Holding pattern

So, Monday rolled around, after a bad day on Sunday. As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew something was wrong. I didn't see Willy, but still, I knew. I found him on the floor at the end of the bed. One glance and I knew he'd had a relapse. So, the entire day was spent with me hovering and trying to maintain a balance between trying to get him to eat and drink and to let him rest.

He would eat some, he drank some. He'd get up and go to his water bowl and just sort of tip it and end up kinda lying in it. His breathing was labored, and his eyes showed just how crappy he was feeling.

Finally, in the evening, he started to perk up a little.

I fed him at 11, and we picked up all of the food at midnight.

We loaded him up and I dropped him off at the vet at 7:30 for his surgery. A couple of hours later, I got a call from the vet's office. I was expecting the "he did great" speech, but got the "we couldn't do his surgery because his PCV level was too low" speech.

So, we're in a holding pattern. He's on Doxycycline and Prednisone for two weeks. He gets a blood level drawn on the 19th and if it's good then we will schedule the surgery for a few days later. He has to be off the Prednisone a few days before he can have anesthesia.

He's responded great to the medications. One more week and we see where we stand.

Simple things

Sometimes it's the simple things in life that are the best. I'm sitting on the sofa with my laptop. Willy is right beside me, purring and giving my hands an occasional head butt when he wants to be petted. I love that cat!

Cute pictures of Willy

Just thought I'd add a couple of recent cute pictures of Willy. I found this bed for him at Wal-Mart and he loves it! That is his "purple monkey friend" with him.



Managed to catch this photo of him in mid-yawn. I actually laughed out loud when I saw how it turned out.

It's just not fair

In the previous post, I talked about Chris getting up to take a break from the race and his snacks and told me to make sure Willy didn't bother his snacks. Chris wasn't even out of the room before Willy was making a move to get to the food. Chris went to put it away. Willy wasn't going to miss an opportunity to check it out though, just in case any crumbs had been left behind.



Inspecting and finding the olive pits. I was very surprised, but he liked the pits! I had to stop him from licking them and get Chris a new plate.

Rough life

Willy really has it rough.

Willy in "his" chair

Willy was enjoying being on the porch today. Chris grabbed the camera and got this great shot of him.

Willy's new door

Yesterday Chris installed a cat door for Willy in the window we would always open and close for him to go onto the back porch. I'm so excited about it! It's taken him a little while to get used to it, but he is using it on his own now. Thank you Chris from Willy and me.

Thanks Bebe & Pops

Thank you Bebe and Pops for keeping Willy for me while we were gone.

He has been very clingy since we got home. He was under my feet every step I took it seemed. He started at 2:45 am trying to get me out of bed. I didn't give in until 5:52 am though. He's sitting next to me while I blog this, making it hard to type at times since he thinks I should be petting him instead of typing.

Willy and Lucy report

Thanks Mama and Daddy for keeping Willy and taking such good care of him! They said Willy and Lucy formed sort of a truce, but never really got comfortable with each other. Lucy didn't like Willy getting in her chair.

Healthwise, he is doing well.