BootsnAll is Hiring

I'm going to take a break from cat-related posts here to tell you about a job opening where I work at the BootsnAll Travel Network. Here's how the position is described:

Are you a web monkey that has talents that are way under utilized? Are you looking to work at a small company where you can see your efforts get implemented on a daily basis and hear positive feedback from customers almost instantaneously? Can you dream in PHP, communicate concisely and effectively and dream up the next web based travel app that travelers go crazy for?

I don't even understand half of that, so clearly this isn't the job for me... But if it made sense to you and you're curious about it, you can read more about the job, which is currently being called a Project Manager, here - and feel free to pass this along to anyone you know who might be interested.

"Wacked Out Nip Nuts"

So, the latest thing is that Chris has decided catnip is like medical marijuana. He got a little container of "the good stuff" and has been sprinkling it on the floor for the cats to eat and roll around in. The hope is that it might help stimulate Bub's appetite (or at least make him happy!), but of course all the cats are benefiting. Chris has taken to calling them all "Wacked Out Nip Nuts" when they're rolling around on that one spot on the floor, day after day. It's pretty amusing.

Bub's eating more, too, which makes me happy - in addition to his twice-daily feedings of wet food he's been eating more and more of the regular dry food that's always out, which is great. And he's even gone back to his old habit of "hunting" his sister down and tackling her. So he's obviously feeling much better. He still isn't crazy about the whole pilling process, but Chris had gotten very good at it so it's far less time that they both have to deal with it.

A Little Progress is a Good Thing

First of all, thanks to everyone who sent me nice notes and sent positive thoughts my little guy's way - it worked.

Bub ate a little tuna fish last night - maybe a tablespoon at the most, but it's more than he'd eaten in the 24 hours before that so I just about did a jig. He's also acting more and more like himself again, which is really nice to see. I talked with the vet assistant today and she gave me some more ideas of different foods to try (including chicken or turkey baby food!), so we'll see what interests him. She also said that his body would begin to deal better with the chemo after probably the 2nd round (which is next Wednesday) or maybe the 3rd, so that his recovery time would be quicker after each round after that. I'm hoping she's right.

Honestly, the biggest thing for me was that I had no idea what was coming next - I knew he felt bad, and I knew he wasn't eating, but I had no idea how long it would last or when (if) he would feel better and start eating again. Now that I've seen him bounce back a little bit, I'm much more encouraged. And that's a good thing, too.

If Knowing is Half the Battle, What's the Other Half?

Somehow I thought that knowing what it was would make it all better, or at least give me something to hold onto, but since we got the lymphoma diagnosis for Bub on Tuesday I've been a wreck. We ended up being at the vet for hours on Tuesday - they had to squeeze him in at the clinic next door to get another ultrasound and get a sample of the tumor so they'd know what to do to treat it, which was good to do, it just meant the poor guy was cooped up in his little carrier for hours in a waiting room occasionally full of barking dogs. He was terrified, and I wasn't much better off.

We made it through all that, although I was absolutely shattered by the end of Tuesday - I cried on and off all day long, almost as much out of frustration and the inability to make Bub understand what was going on than anything else. I've always had a harder time dealing with animals suffering that people suffering, just because you can't explain anything to them - they're just scared, or hurting, or whatever, and you can't tell them things are going to be okay. It really sucks.

At any rate, the diagnosis of lymphoma is what I expected it to be, and now the little guy is on chemo. He got his first IV injection at the vet's office on Tuesday, and he could be on chemo for up to a year. We'll know more after four weeks of weekly chemo appointments whether he's responding to the treatment, and then we'll know better what to do next. For this first month he's also on a cat version of the steroid Prednisone, which is supposed to help suppress his immune system (since lymphoma is a cancer of the immune system). I thought my big, easygoing boy would be easy to pill, but he's anything but. If he's as much of a fighter against the cancer as he is against the pills, the cancer doesn't stand a chance.

We got a pill in him on Tuesday night and then couldn't do it Wednesday morning. Chris found Pill Pockets online and found a store nearby that sold them, so he got some and went home at lunch to feed Bub his pill disguised as a kitty treat. He actually gulped it right down, so we were optimistic. He took his pill (encased in its treat) again last night, but this morning didn't want anything to do with it. Worse, he didn't really eat anything last night and wouldn't touch his food this morning or any of the various treats he usually loves. I'm the first to admit that I'm panicked about that - he's already so thin, he can't afford to lose any more weight. And yet it makes sense that the chemo would make him feel cruddy and like he doesn't feel like eating. He still seems hydrated, so that's good, and the vet assistant said the steroids should help him regain his appetite - so I'm going to hope he'll eat something tonight.

I'm still ready to cry at the drop of a hat. I feel so badly that he feels badly. Before he was diagnosed, but already clearly suffering from some of the effects of the cancer, he was "fine" - he was his usual active and playful self, happy as a clam. Now he's logey and has no appetite, and I can't help but think that if his four-week checkup doesn't show that he's responding well to the treatment that we've done a horrible thing to him. I don't want to think that way, but I almost can't help it. I know I'm being paranoid, I know I'm being overprotective, I know I'm worrying too much - and I don't know what else to do. The thing that's doing me in right now is the same hyper-sensitivity that caught the weight loss in the first place. It's the only way I know how to be. I want to force him to eat, but clearly can't do that. And yet every time he walks away from food I get more and more stressed and worried and anxious.

The vet says she's not worried that he didn't eat this morning, and that I'm supposed to call her back tomorrow if he's still not eating. Chris took Bub to our local vet this morning to get a demonstration in pilling, so he got his Prednisone today and Chris now knows how to get it in him reliably whether he'll eat that Pill Pocket thing or not. So at least there's that. And yet all I feel is a pit in my stomach about my poor sweet boy who now, as a result of us trying to fix him, feels like crap and has no idea why. I really hate this.

A Bald Belly

So, Bub (that's the cat) went in for his ultrasound today, and he's got a big shaved belly to show for it. The mass they'd felt in his lower abdomen is roughly 7cm, but it's a singular tumor - there's nothing else anywhere they could see. The doctors say that's a very good sign. And now our cat has an appointment with an oncologist on Tuesday morning. A kitty oncologist - who knew? I mean, I knew they must exist, I'd just never thought about it before. At any rate, I get to meet one next week.

In the meantime, Bub's going to be in hog (cat?) heaven here as he's going to get lots more canned food than he's ever gotten before. We need to make sure he doesn't keep losing weight, so every time he turns around there's going to be more canned food available to him. His sister is going to turn into a small elephant, of course, as we can't feed one without feeding at least a little to the other, but, as the vet said, "She can go on a diet later if she needs to."

We've been told that chemo for cats is very different from chemo for humans, in several ways - most notably cats do not lose their fur or feel like shit while they're on it. It can also be given orally, in the form of a flavored liquid, depending on how responsive the tumor is. We'll know more after he sees the oncologist next week.

Bub continues to seem fine, except for the weight loss, so ultimately remains confused as to why we keep shoving him in that awful carrying case and taking him to the doctor...

Hey, that growth isn't supposed to be there...

I got back about an hour ago from taking one of the cats to the vet. I thought he'd been losing weight, but couldn't be sure, and figured they'd be able to tell me if I was imagining things. We haven't been taking any of the cats to the vet regularly (I honestly can't remember the last time any of them went in for anything, including vaccines) because they're all indoors-only and, well, they hate it. But this warranted action, so off we went. He yowled at me the entire drive, which was thankfully only about 7 minutes.

The good news? The vet assistants think he's perfect. He's adorable and a sweetheart and he behaved well, even when they had to get a blood sample.

The bad news? He's got some kind of growth that, as the vet put it, "isn't supposed to be there" around his intestines. She said lymphoma isn't uncommon in cats his age (almost 10), and that it can be treated pretty easily, depending on what it is. They're going to call me tomorrow with the results of the bloodwork and then we'll have to schedule an ultrasound so they can get a better look at it, and they'll probably go ahead and get a sample of it at that point, too.

I'm trying to be optimistic about it - after all, we don't really know what it is yet, or what the treatments are for whatever mysterious thing it might be - but of course it's not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear "hyperthyroid" or "abscessed tooth" or something, not "lymphoma." So I'm a little scared, and had a good cry when I got him out of his dreaded cat carrier and he immediately starting rolling around and wanting his belly rubbed. What a guy - I can drag him off to the vet where they poke and prod at him, and he still loves me.

So, any positive thoughts you could muster for my little guy would be much appreciated.

The End of an Era

I knew it had to happen sometime, but it's still a bummer. I think I've got a whopping two new episodes of Gilmore Girls left (one which is recorded but I haven't watched yet, and one more coming up) before the show is over for good. I'm sad, because I really do adore the show and the characters, but I'm not sure what else they could really do with them in the next year... So much happened this season, it'd be a helluva thing to try to "top." And really, I don't exactly need to have more television programs to watch - I'll just miss the Girls, that's all.

There's a nice interview with Lauren Graham here. I'm not sure I'd compare here to Katharine Hepburn myself, but I do think she's highly underrated. I'd love to see her get more leading roles - she really does deserve them.

Nothing New to Post... So Why Am I Posting?

I really don't have anything new to report here, so it strikes me that I shouldn't be writing anything at all... Except I just wanted to reassure you all that I'm not dead and that I haven't forgotten about you. Really. It's just that this is the busiest quarter for us at BootsnAll, so I'm working in a semi-frenzied state during the week and trying to catch up on all the non-work-related parts of my life (laundry, grocery shopping, talking to my husband) on the weekends. This means I don't have time for many things of the non-essential variety, like posting on this blog. Sorry. I'm alive and well, just busy and exhausted.

Hope all's well with all of you, though.