jeez, grief is lame, yo...

randomly:

- It's only been two months.

I say that to try and keep me from being hard on myself about still being pretty damn sad. After all, if he were a person and not a cat, no one would wonder. At my still being sad. Even me.

- My sister asked how I was doing the other day and I had to say "Better." By which I specifically mean, day-to-day, I'm not feeling it as much. I've been busy, I've been out, I've been pre-occupied. However, when it does hit, it's still pretty heavy, the Sad. And I don't feel like I'm at all back to myself yet, generally speaking.

- The annoying part of grief is that nothing pleases it. In the first month, the pain was from remembering much too clearly, the physical presence, the there-ness of my cat friend. Approaching the second month marker, I noticed I was definitely starting to forget those things. Which hurt.

A Non Vicious Circle

(here. I'm going to talk about something besides my cat for a moment.)

If you've been following this blog for a very long time indeed, you know that I left my last pre-becoming a professional puppeteer job under circumstances of massive suck.

A few weeks ago, one of the board members from that job (friendly person; not involved in the suck) contacted me interested in ordering one of my Singing PuppetGrams (yes, really).

"Neat!" I thought. And: "Glad I stayed in touch." And then it got better:

She decided to have me deliver the song in the lobby of the old job.

So, 4 years and three months after being driven away from a job I liked a lot by the shenanigans of assholes, they have both been fired and I return to the place 100% on my own awesome terms, doing a gig that I love.

The Wheel, sometimes she is slower than we'd like, but she does keep turning.

Like a New Vocabulary Word

I'd never noticed before Arthur died how many main characters in books have a cat.
Or maybe it's just the books I read.
In any case, it's a lot.

One Month

Yeah, I don't think you could say that I'm ok right now. I'm trying. I'm more or less functional. But I'm not really ok.

A Bit Over Three Weeks

Well, obviously I'm feeling somewhat better, because you can see my blogging has slacked off.

Certainly The Sad is a little less active. Part of this is time passing, part of it is that I've been pretty darn busy. As I observed last week, the most pervasive symptom (still) is feeling overwhelmed. I also find it hard to split my focus; multi-tasking is not a do-able thing for me right now.

And then sometimes it sneaks up on me and gets bigger again:

- A friend's cat came over to me at the end of a rehearsal at their house. So, of course I pet him. And realized I hadn't pet a cat since Arthur died. And teared up. Hell, I'm teary just typing that.

- Fiction is a little dicey for me right now unless I know it's safe. For instance, did you know that the "Fun Run" episode of "The Office" (US version) has Dwight euthanizing one of Angela's cats as a B-plot? Whee.

- I've had a monthly recurring gig in my Standardized Patient-ing world where I play a woman in her 30s experiencing end stage cancer. I hadn't had a session of this since he died, so I was naturally braced for things to potentially get hairy this past Monday when I had to do it.

Surprisingly, everything was totally fine. Until we got to the bit about my character being afraid of having breathing problems at the end of her life, because her grandmother had. I was launching into the description of this, when it occurred to me that Arthur's breathing had been labored his entire last day. And then I had to work really, really hard, not only to hang onto my composure, but also to not show in any way that I was doing so. Because a big goal of this particular class just happens to be: learning to pick up on and follow emotional cues from your patient.

Fortunately, I succeeded. If they had pressed me at all, I think I would've lost it. And I had the feeling that if I lost it, I wasn't going to get it back again. Not useful.

Two Weeks Out

In general, I would say every day I feel a little better that the day before. Except on the days that I don't. It's not linear. Balls to its not being linear.

My biggest personal indicator that all is not well, when everything else seems fairly equal, is that I start feeling overwhelmed very very easily these days. Checking my email, for instance, tends to be an anxiety inducing activity.

Beyond that, I had the good fortune of almost nine full days of grace (two activities in there that couldn't be canceled, but that was all). Super rare.

And then life kicked back in. Which is good, because it distracts me. But there's also the first encounter with each friend who I haven't seen since he died, which leads to some tears.

But I managed to have a genuinely nice evening for the first time last Friday. That gives me some hope that, though I will always miss him, I may be eventually able to achieve some peace with my sadness.

Readings for My Cat Friend

these are the things I chose to read at the funeral of Arthur, King of the Kittons:

Stop All the Clocks
by W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

(it's the one from Four Weddings and a Funeral; I've always liked it)

The Passing of Arthur
Tennyson

...But now farewell. I am going a long way

With these thou seëst--if indeed I go

(For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)--

To the island-valley of Avilion;

Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,

Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies

Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns

And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea,

Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.

(appropriate for obvious reasons)

In Memoriam A.H.H.
Tennyson

V
I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.

But, for the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies;
The sad mechanic exercise,
Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.

In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold:
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.

VI
One writes, that `Other friends remain,'
That `Loss is common to the race'—
And common is the commonplace,
And vacant chaff well meant for grain.

That loss is common would not make
My own less bitter, rather more:
Too common! Never morning wore
To evening, but some heart did break…

XXVII

…I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

(also an obvious connection. however, Tennyson was also right to read for another reason: my copy of his collected poems has no cover, because Arthur peed on it once, and it was the only way to save the book.)

i also said a few words, as did Mr. D, but I couldn't tell you what any of them were now.
and we sang him one of his cat songs, which you don't need to know.
and then we went and bought some tiger-lily bulbs to plant over him.

I Think My Body is Rejecting the Sadness

After the third hardest day, of the hardest week, in the hardest month of my life, my psyche has apparently redlined on misery. It is running around like a toddler screaming "NONONONONONONONONONONO!!!" if my brain gets anywhere near thinking about Mr. Cat today.

I am doing my solid best to accept this as I am the other parts of my grieving process. But it's weird.

The difficult bit is, I don't have a Fun Thing I'm currently obsessed with to slack off and attend to instead. So, giving into it is hard. And, I can't throw myself into work, because Screaming Toddler Brain is not Focused Brain. Not even close.

One Week Out

It was pretty much exactly one week ago that it became clear to me that Arthur didn't have much fight left in him.

He stumbled the 5 feet between the end of the bed and his water bowl. And then he as much collapsed as laid down, and had to rest a good five minutes before he had the energy to drink any water.

So.

I called Mr. D sobbing and got him to come home. And then frantically called the vets willing to do house calls that I'd just called that morning as research, to see if any of them could actually come that same evening. Fortunately, two seemed available and the one who had a later time gave us her blessing to switch over to the earlier vet if we could work that out.

Because we were pretty adamant about wanting him to be able to die at home. Because we think that's what we would prefer for ourselves. And because he never really liked going anywhere. So it seemed lame to make a large part of his last hours being in the car and at the vet.

Anyway.

We're one week on now. How is it going?

It's still strange, but slowly getting less so. Less actively so, anyway, as the habit of having a cat friend around slowly works its way out of our skin. The single weirdest part is being able to have all the doors open.

Yesterday, there were several moments when I felt almost normal. There were also moments when I cried, though, so. Today is harder, since it's the one week mark. Though, while I'm sadder again, I'm also very aware that I felt worse this exact time last week - even though he was still with me then and isn't now - because he was so obviously in such bad shape, so exhausted.

The Beginning of the end

(for some reason, I feel the need to round out the story. bear with me. or don't.)

February 15th, the cat threw up randomly in the middle of the night. Not completely unheard of because: Cat. But pretty rare.

Then he didn't eat all day. Again, not completely unheard of, but coupled with the vomiting it put me on guard.

Then I got home from an evening dinner meeting and the cat popped out of his room, where he'd been sleeping for a few hours, meowing and very agitated. This was extremely unusual; Arthur was a quiet cat most of the time. After about five minutes of this, he tensed up and vomited again, clear liquid.

So, we took him to the emergency vet.

They found him to be dehydrated (not much of a shock for a chronic kidney cat, though I'd just Sub-Q-ed him the night before) and to have anemia (that was a shock. more on that in another post) and recommended he stay overnight to get fluids.

We agreed and went home to a very empty house and a really not good night's sleep.

Grief

I stumble around town
From room to room
Folded into a less than sign
Drunk on grief
The worst has happened
I fear nothing

Gratitude List for Arthur

Gratitude List for Arthur

Because in all of this massive pit of suck, there are things to be grateful about, and I think it would be good for me to acknowledge them.

I am grateful:

- that Mr. Arthur found me in the first place
- that I was able to have him live with me everywhere I went for his entire life
- for 15 and a half years
- for 12 years of good health
- that we could afford to maintain him once he was diagnosed
- that we could afford the more aggressive, intense treatments over the past 3 weeks that gave us some extra time
- for the vets who suggested and promoted the aggressive treatments, for not giving up
- for Mr. D, who was supportive and helpful through all of this
- for our friends who sent love and prayers and understanding in heaps
- that I had a lot more free time than usual over the past month so I could manage the new high maintenance normal. there are plenty of times in my life when this wouldn't've been the case
- that this same free time gave me time for lots of cat snuggling
- that he had sunbeams to lie in on his last day
- that he seemed to not suffer much
- that we were able to have him put to sleep here at home
- that we waited 'til we were sure
- that we have a yard so we could keep him near

The Unexpected

The Unexpected

There are plenty of things that I expect will make me sad. And they do.

(And it's so like me to think I can lessen the hurt by anticipating it. Also like me to have not learned, despite all evidence to the contrary, that this is just not true.)

And then there are things that blindside me completely.

I just took my first shower since Sunday. And my first long shower in about a month. Pep talked myself into it, thinking it was a good thing to do and soothing and etc.

And then I stepped out of the shower and completely lost it.

Because: Mr. Arthur used to hang out on the bathmat while I showered, waiting for me to get out so he could slurp up the tasty tasty floor water. So, to get out and not see him sitting there hurt like hell.

The Second Hardest Day

The Second Hardest Day

We buried Arthur this morning.

So, today was the second worst day. And wrapping him up for it was the second hardest thing I've ever had to do.

And there's a level were I know that means I've had a pretty fortunate life, if this is the worst thing. But it still hurts like hell. A lot of crying today. Not a lot of words left right now.

"But now farewell. I am going a long way

With these thou seëst--if indeed I go

(For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)--

To the island-valley of Avilion;

Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,

Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies

Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns

And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea,

Where I will heal me of my grievous wound."



Tennyson

The Passing of Arthur

Long Live the King

Long Live the King


We had Arthur, King of the Kittons, put to sleep today at 5:45pm.


He was at the end of a long fight with kidney disease. And he was a badass tenacious fighter, but he'd been going downhill rapidly lately. And today I was watching him deteriorating hour by hour. Which made the decision...less questionable, because I can't say easier...I asked him to let me know what to do and he did...he let me know that it was time to do what I already knew I had to do...but


I'm still pretty fucking messed up right now.


Burying him tomorrow. Which will be its own trial. Because right now it's somewhat of a comfort to know he's just in the next room, curled up like he's asleep. And also unsettling, because I feel like he's going to come tippy tapping through the room any minute now. And he isn't.


I need more whiskey. And also sleep.


“I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.” - Jean Cocteau

Day of Rest

Day of Rest

The anti-convulsant can be mixed into food, so we're getting it into him that way.

The first way suggested by the vet tech was to "pull back his lip and put a drop at a time on his tongue. I know that might take awhile."

If you are a cat person, I'll pause for a moment while you laugh out loud or smack your forehead.

In any case, it's making a difference for sure. Also, appetite seems to be holding. The big downside is in leg weakness/wobbliness. It's depressing to watch him stumbling on every 4th step when he walks about.

On the other hand, we've made sure to give him closer alternatives for all of his essentials (water, food, litter) while keeping another source of each thing where it's always been. And barring stairs, he mostly insists on trekking to the usual places. It smacks of a "fuck this disease" attitude that I admire.

FML

FML

The anti-convulsant is a liquid to be administered by mouth.

Mr. Cat has taken to throwing up any and every time something is forced up him via his mouth.

Heaven forbid there be a part of this process that doesn't work directly against another part of it.

Post 2nd Hospital Stay, Night/Day One

Post 2nd Hospital Stay, Night/Day One

It was good to have him home, though he spent the early part of the evening being very, very restless. Pacing the house over and over again.

On the upside, he was very hungry. Eating = weight gain = good.

At about 11, he finally settled down a bit, falling asleep on Bob's lap.

At 11:30, he had a seizure. Also at 5am. Also at noon today.

Bob is out now fetching some anti-convulsives, because we'd like Arthur Cat to be more comfortable.

The weird part about the seizures, besides just that they're happening at all, is that once they're over he's totally fine. Better than fine, in fact. Hungry, energetic, playing with toys he's ignored for ages.

This makes the whole end of life discussion much harder. Not that it was ever going to be easy, but... I can't imagine the seizures are making for a good quality of life for him. On the other hand, if he's better than cool the rest of the time, it seems premature to end things.

I wish cats could talk.

Anyway. Anti-convulsives. Hopefully they help.

Seizure? You brought her...

Seizure? You brought her...

Ugh.

So, I call the vet place at 4:22 and get forwarded to a vet tech. New Day Vet is with a patient, can they have him call me back? Sure, but Arthur's basically cool, right? Yes, he's resting comfortably. Um, so he's ok like he was this morning? There have been some "further developments" and the vet will call me back in 5 or 10 minutes.

Among the longest stretches of 5-10 minutes of my life.

Actually more like 15.

New Day Vet calls. I ask what happened. Apparently, Arthur had a couple of seizures today, he doesn't know how often he tends to have them, but-  He's never had them before the last time he had one, which was the first time he had one, which was while he was in the hospital there a couple weeks ago. Oh, well- WHY WASN'T I CALLED? Um, because I wanted to wait for the blood work results and- I SHOULD HAVE BEEN CALLED.

Ahem.

We let him be admitted to the hospital last night with some hope that a night of IV fluids would improve his lab numbers. It did not. In fact, they actually worsened. So, we've brought him home. It seemed best.

He's here now, plenty alert, if a little stumbly from the post seizure valium. I'm relieved he's home, but the next few days are likely to be extra tough.

Let's Play Hungry Hungry Hippos

Let's Play Hungry Hungry Hippos 

I am waiting to get called with lab results.

I had to wait this morning for my status update. Usually they call between 8:30 and 9:15. I waited til 10 and then called them. The vet I spoke to was new to me. Said Arthur was "bright" and had "really perked up" on the IV fluids.

...which was weird, since he hadn't seemed low energy in the slightest when I took him in. Which I went ahead and mentioned...

New Day Vet said they planned to recheck his blood work at 3 and they would call em with the results of that. Great, I said. Sounds like you'd like to be able to get him home today, he said. Absolutely, I said.

And then. Then he started asking me what I felt like Arthur's quality of life had been over the past few weeks. Pardon? Did I feel like he'd been going downhill? No, I said. Quite the contrary. I'd felt he wasn't great when we first gotten him home, and feeding him was a massive struggle for awhile, but that he'd gradually ramped up in energy and the past few days had seemed pretty normal until the incontinence started. He seemed surprised by this and decided to talk some more about quality of life.

Ok, I said, I know he's very off and in end stage, but he still seems very There to me. So, yes, I'm not being unrealistic in that he's going to "get better" in that there's a cure or anything. But, he seems better now than he was. So, it seems a bit premature to call it.

Anyway.

Now I'm waiting for labs that were to be done at 3. The other day doctor used to call me about 30-45 minutes after lab time. It's been 81 minutes now. I don't like New Day Vet. And he has 9 minutes until I call and tell him so.

Brushing up on Your Small Talk

Brushing up on Your Small Talk

Older Woman in a Shopping Scooter: ...excuse me, do you work here?
(I ignore this because I do not, in fact, work there)
OWiaSS (loud, insistant): Hey! Do you work here!
Me: No. I don't.
OWiaSS: Oh.
Man Suddenly Appearing from the Next Aisle: Do you work here?
Me: No. Wow. (laughs)
MSAftNA: Oh, did someone else just...?
Me: Yeah.
OWiaSS: Well, maybe you should change your outfit.
Me: I... Maybe I should be able to shop in whatever the hell outfit I want.
OWiaSS: Well, I'm just trying to help.

-end scene-

...and the moral of this story is, don't shop at Fred Meyer in yoga pants and a theatrrr hoody.

Or, totally do.

Another Cat-less Evening

Another Cat-less Evening

Called the vet when I said I was going to. They said I could bring him in if I felt it was urgent, but that it didn't sound em-urgent (see what I did there?). So maybe keep him under observation.

Cool. Ok. But then...

About 5:30 Mr. Cat had another 'bout of sleep peeing. Here's what happens: He's asleep. Apparently he starts to urinate. This wakes him up and disturbs him mightily. He startles and jumps and runs like hell for the litter box. He doesn't make it. Then he meows for awhile.

So I call the vet again. They forward me to the internist, who is already unhappy with Mr. Cat's lab results. He wants me to have Arthur admitted so he can get IV fluids for awhile.

*sigh*

So I have a house without a cat for the night. Which feels massively empty. I hope it's only for tonight this time.

2 Steps Forward, 2 Steps Down

2 Steps Forward, 2 Steps Down

Mr. Arthur ate like a rock star yesterday and continues to do so today.

But.

He seems very restless.

And.

Was incontinent twice this morning while he was sleeping.

So.

I need to call the vet. But I've been dragging my feet a little. Because I think I already know what this means. Well, there are two options. One is annoying but treatable. The other is end game. I'm not really feeling up to any of it today. But that's cowardly.

So.

Yeah, gonna go call the vet now.

2 Week Out Lab Check

2 Week Out Lab Check

The good news is that he's gained a snippet of weight since last week.

The meh news is that the hormones aren't dealing with his anemia as fast or well as expected. Dose up-page, ahoy.

More on the good side: he ate today like a cat who is actually interested in eating.

So, today was a good day.

My World These Days is Small But Complicated

My World These Days is Small But Complicated

the slow road

the slow road

so trying to do something nice for the cat kinda back fired tonight.

he gets subcutaneous fluids, and has for three years now. but after his hospital visit, he has to get them everyday, twice a day. as opposed to once or twice a week.

so i was feeling bad about the needles i was using. i've heard them called harpoons in various online forums. didn't feel too much about it when i was only stabbing him weekly, but now.

today i popped into the vet and asked about smaller needles. they advised me not to go too small, and ruled out a couple of gauges, and i picked something two sizes down from what i had been using, but within suggested range.

and i was all "yay, i'll be hurting my cat friend slightly less."

sigh.

the fluid flows so. much. more. slo.w.l...y. it took 3-4 times as long to get the same amount of liquid into him, which mr. arthur clearly found even more disturbing than the needle stabbing.

so tomorrow it's back to the old needles. which is fine. i have plenty.

it's just the angst. the "i'm frickin' trying to help" thing. a thing that i can't actually communicate to my cat. because he's a cat. so when things change and don't work, he's just pissed. and there's nothing i can do about it, but apologize about five million times. which was what i did, like a crazy person speaking in tongues, through the entire slow drip ordeal.

the repeated uselessness of my good intentions is depressing and heartbreaking.

Home from the Hospital - Day 11

Home from the Hospital - Day 11

Arthur is up half a pound this morning from yesterday morning! Huzzah!

(...now, as long as that's really due to food and not sudden heart problems.....sorry. I'm having trouble hanging on to any optimism here...I'm trying, but it's damn hard.)

If I ignore the pessimism, I'll attribute the gain back to his actually eating some food by his own choice yesterday, which is probably indicative of his anemia starting to get under control. *fingers crossed*

I would tell you _what_ he ate yesterday, but, frankly, I'm afraid of jinxing it.

after playing a card that commanded me to ask someone at the table a trivia question about my hobby:

Me: "What is the difference between a robot and a puppet?"
Him: "Well, robots have to follow The Three Laws of Robotics and puppets...are essentially lawless."
Me: "Full points."

The New Normal

The New Normal

Just left a party way earlier than I normally would have, so I could get home to give the cat his last feeding for the day. Home before mids on a Saturday night, yo.

Am currently sitting around waiting for him to calm down enough that he might actually do some of the eating by choice instead of force.

This is my life these days.

I've decided to call Feeding the Cat my hobby so I don't feel quite as weird about how much of my time, energy and attention is centered around it. Not quite as weird.

Home from the Hospital - Day 10

Home from the Hospital - Day 10

Behavior is fairly normal, though he's sleeping a bit more than he used to. Mobility is surprisingly good. The Bad Very Difficult Thing is that he isn't eating. And so he's lost a pound and a half in these ten days. And this is very very bad.

The thing is, Arthur's never been a very eat-y cat. We can leave food out for him all the time and he never, ever overeats. I know this isn't the case for everyone and I've generally felt like it was a fortunate thing. The problem now is, it doesn't give us much wiggle room.

To be continued. I have a lot to say about the non-eating, since trying to get him to eat is taking up about 40% of my time these days.

Before the Diagnosis or Vet Annoyance #1

Before the Diagnosis or Vet Annoyance #1

The weird thing is, for the 2 annual exams leading up to his official kidney disease diagnosis, Arthur's numbers were already trending in that direction. I know this because the vet told me. So, naturally, I asked what I could do about it.

Nothing.

The first time, 2 years out, I just accepted this. The second time I heard it, hearing that it had advanced, I asked more aggressively. Seriously, since we see this is going to happen, isn't there something we can do?

No. Nothing.

Really? Well, we don't start them on the medicine until they're actually sick. Ok, but isn't there something preventative we could do? No. Nothing.

Which, in my opinion, was bullshit.

I mean, yes, it's an inevitable disease, blah blah blah, so in that sense, no, nothing to be done.

However, there are diet and nutritional things that one can give the cat that make them healthier and slow the progression of the disease. So, I could've started doing those with no harm to him, and it probably would've staved off the onset a bit longer. Like, at the very very least, I could've switched him over to canned food, as he was eating mostly dry at the time.

I'll take my responsibility for not getting on the internet and researching this more aggressively. But a bigger thumbs down is due to my vet for not mentioning any of these things to me. Even if they are only Western Veterinary Medicine based, the wet food suggestion is well known.

Cat - Baseline

Cat - Baseline

Arthur - King of the Kittons is 15 years and 5 months old. He is a grey and black striped tabby. He was a stray that I found when he was a tiny, tiny kitten and he's lived with me ever since.

3 years ago, he was diagnosed with Chronic Kidney Disease. It's degenerative and inevitably fatal. There's no cure. Fortunately, there are treatments that aim at slowing its progress and keeping the cat feeling as normal as possible. But things eventually go downhill.

About my cat

About my cat

Hey.

This very neglected blog has, so far in its life, been only occasionally about my cat.

That's about to change.

He's going through a bout of difficult health lately and it's eating most of my mental space and a lot of my time. But I don't want to bore everyone to tears on the social media.

So I thought, "Hey. Blog."