Nev wasn’t happy with last week’s attempt at a chest X-ray and had another done before performing the biopsy.
She was right: a large dark mass is there on a lung.
No point doing the biopsy: so he won’t have a much more sore paw – for a while, anyway.
The diagnosis is in and the prognosis is obvious.
As always, it’s just a matter of time: it was the same with Chic. And I must couple the two together: each one I have loved with all my heart and then some, regardless of one’s being my husband and lover and the other my cat.
It was Chic who made me understand (eventually) that I should get a cat after he’d gone.
Pain management from now on.
Lung cancer has taken and will take the two beings most deeply imprinted, late, on me.
He had an appointment with Nev the vet this-morning, at which I was to show her the videos of his progress (or lack thereof).
The problem has been found: there is not yet a diagnosis.
Under the middle toe of his right foot there is (now ! – but never before) a fairly big, hard-ish swelling. He will no longer let Nev manipulate his right foot; and in fact he hissed at her when she did. So she stopped, and went looking; and there it was.
It’s likely to be a tumour. Has he been coughing lately ? – why, yes … a couple of times in the last week or so: why ? Because there is a form of lung cancer in cats that metastisises – or simply shows itself – in their digits. But there’s also a possibility that it’s a local tumour, in which case we will simply remove that toe.
He’s still there at the vets’, having X-rays of both his right front paw and of his lungs.
Nev will call me in a couple of hours to come and collect him.
Can we, meanwhile, all do as The Doctor’s followers did in that rather super ‘Martha Jones vs The Master’ episode, and call out “Lui … Lui .. Lui …” ?
He was seen, coupla months back, to have developed a very common side effect – so to speak – of feline diabetes: neuropathy in a hind leg (never in a fore-leg, only one at the back). It was his right, and he walked on it like a bear does – flat from the toes to the back of the heel:
whereas a cat normally walks on its toes:
See the diff. ? – and how strange it would be to see a cat walking with an entirely flat back foot ?
Anyway, it was awful; because that right back leg also trembled, and I would cry every time I saw that happening to my once large and fearsome (not really) mog.
But it eventually went away, the neuropathy ! I reckon I was more pleased about that than Lui was.
His diabetes is being managed, with only one interruption when a visit to my new vet resulted in a test’s saying he was in remission and I should radically lower the insulin dose … and the test results were somehow wrong, and he wasn’t in remission and going from 5 units m+n to 3 m+n took him right back to the beginning … Still, now he’s back on being stabbed m+n with 5, and almost back to how he was.
Something is wrong with his right FRONT foot. I shall show you a video, and you’ll see how very wrong it is. In my opinion, at the outset of this, it was as if he had neuropathy in a front foot ! – but it got worse, and now it’s clear that there’s definitely something wrong there. Only trouble is: I’ve taken him back to his vet two more times and on both occasions he has refused to limp and refused to hold his paw up. In other words, he behaves as if there’s nothing wrong with him.
After the second useless visit, Nev suggested I video him. Being a NOT-phone-lover, it hadn’t entered my head. Now I video the little bugger every day; and Nev is going to be bored shitless by having to look at every single one in order to check his progress. Basically, he IS a little better; and he now occasionally puts weight on it when walking. But he still licks the paw, and sits with it pathetically held up …
SHE, the cat’s mother (read: me) is hoping against hope that this, too, will f-f-f-f-fade away …
It’s really painful; or really uncomfortable; or really annoying; or really distracting. Or all at once.
I’ve had this ghastly affliction for many years – I reckon around ten or so.
Why it chose me I know not. I never heard anyone in my family speak of it; and cerrtainly no-one had to visit their specialist carer to have it looked after …
So It’s apparently not genetic. Or inherited. Or familial. Whatever.
And once you’ve caught it, you’re never free of it for the rest of your days. Thank all the gods, its best feature is that it goes once you’ve had it treated; and there can be lengthy breaks until it recurs.
That’s it. After all the time I spent on careful creation, realizing that it IS possible to crochet from side to side without its growing larger, or smaller, or one after the other, or both at once, or slanted … in other words, that I am actually able to create a crocheted lap blanket that’s simply straight up and down – and even without blocking ! – after all this time, as I say, it’s just – gone.
J will never set eyes on the lap blanket I made for her winters up there in Paris, in her little flat that she loves almost as much as she loves the city itself. She will never be found sitting at her desk in, say, January, writing a paper for some conference or other and keeping her lap warm with my lapghan.
So. She’s coming back to Oz in September for a brief sojourn. I must make something to replace the birthday present she never received. The Vintage Walrus must be put on hold while I do this, and that’s that.
This is where I get to make a lapghan with that amazing combo of yarns I posted about yesterday. Unhappily, it won’t be that really nice combination of greens, because I don’t have time to wait for a parcel delivery from the US – nor do I have the money (US postage to Oz is unbelievably expensive) – and instead I’ve chosen something she will like from the very limited range of colours available here.
Not a happy story, not at all. And especially because that lapghan was the first time in my life that I’ve made something plain but good, and finished it. Sighh …
An excuse to put up a couple of shots of Lui – an amazingly cheap new cat basket that my friend J found at Kmart for her inherited mog Sooty and was persuaded to buy another for Lui:
As for why it’s where it is, on a chair that it really don’t fit in … that black chair I bought second-hand for a good price, without thinking. His Maj instantly took to it, so that I have to shroud it in a large green sheet until someone visits. I then whip the sheet off, trying to ensure getting the fur-bespeckled side on the outside when I fold it and almost invariably not succeeding … Hey ho, into the washing-machine again. Does Lui’s fur come off things easily ? Only when someone sits where he’s been … Otherwise the answer is NONONONONO.
There is a blogger from the Netherlands of whom I have written – I think it was in my first post upon returning to the blogging fold. She and her husband (and their cat, who is not to be overlooked !) are in the process of selling their canal house so that they can move out into the country – I suppose that makes it a tree-change …
If you feel like looking at the agency’s photos of a totally gorgeous little house in a mind-blowing environment, visit SpinningAnna’s latest post.
You, like me, will ponder upon the tree-change urge that has led to this sale.
It’s terrifically frustating when you’re full of joy on someone else’s account, and not sure if she is going to post about it. I mean, am I being just interfering if *I* do …?
Possibly. Probably. But she is SO TALENTED that I cannot risk not broadcasting.
H, my dear friend whom I first met through blogging, when living in Sydney while she was living down here in Geelong, has just done her first singing exam. No, in fact she did the exam a little while back; what’s just happened is that she’s just got the results.
Honours. Of course !
H is someone who manages to combine low self-esteem with a fiercely competitive nature (how ? – whose nose ?); so although the friend she has who runs the choir H sings in pushed her to enter this first-ever singing exam several grades up while telling her “all my students get Honours” ( ! ), one might wonder if said pushing wasn’t something of a bridge a teeny bit far.
But no ! – whether or not she had real anxiety we shall never know; but the fact is that Honours have been awarded, and no-one takes that away.
Onwards and upwards ?, I asked … No; the new challenge will be theory. And that really is a challenge. H’s voice was the great assistor for the singing examination; to study for & pass a theory exam is a horse of a different colour. One must work; one has nothing to assist one but one’s brain. Yes, we know H’s brain works (most of the time), but sight-reading ? writing music ? GASP ! Bloody hard yakka, everything that comes with singing theory.
Plagal cadences ? What the— ?
ANYWAY. Anyone who knows H should congratulate her. And now I wish I were communicating with all those lovely people I blogged with all those years ago: they all know her. But with any luck, she just might post something …