Unexpected Palliative

Of course two weeks after this, an abdominal mass was felt in Rodney Ballsnomore on Monday, explaining his recent weight loss and changes.

He’s fourteen and a half, and he gets pretty stressed at the vet, and there is basically no good news when it comes to this kind of thing, especially since by touch the mass shares characteristics with malignant tumours, so I’ve opted not to put him through invasive diagnostics. So we don’t know precisely what it’s growing on, just that it’s there and it’s going to kill him soon.

If there’s a good thing here, it’s that it’s still earlier than it’s usually found–he still wants to eat a bit, he’s still engaging with the household cats and me. So we know his time is limited, even without a firm estimate, and can enjoy what days are left. I’ve switched to palliative care for a few weeks, with some meds that will reduce inflammation and make him comfortable, and feeding him whatever he wants to eat. Currently his refined palate is enjoying Catit Creamy Salmon by the bucketload, salmon Temptations, Friskies pate, and the occasional handful of the usual hairball control food.

He’s enjoying the sun (although it’s rained the past two days) and while he doesn’t want to play, he’s still inquisitive and alert. I’ve got warm spots for him all over the apartment, wherever he wants to nap, but he spends most of his time next to me.

Beyond being heartbroken that he’s dying and crying all the time, the hardest thing is being hyperaware of every single second and feeling like I should do something and reconciling that with knowing the best thing for everyone is to keep up with routines and be normal so I don’t stress out Rodney himself or Shawn’s bladder with my nonsense. And I have to work as I’ll be racking up more bills, though my focus is still a struggle because every ten minutes my brain screams, “YOUR CAT IS DYING, WHY ARE YOU DOING LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE BUT STARING AT HIM.“

The month started off pretty good here–I was able to keep offline, I was getting through a lot of work and some apartment projects. Shawn derailed that and just as I thought I was getting back to it, with so much planned to be done this week so I could start some writing projects after midnight (unofficial NaNoWriMo), now I’m faced with my special, silly little cat dying.

I’m exhausted, perpetually, but there’s nothing else to be done but be grateful for what we have and endure.

I’m going to try a day reset and take a shower, get a cup of decaf, and get this project off to a client that I should’ve had done over a week ago, maybe get the final Demon Fall chapters cleaned up to post, and be able to start fresh at midnight with something new, even knowing I will probably associate the writing of it with my cat dying.

Hug your pets.