Two Weeks After Surgery

SnickersWatchcat and Danderbomb

Now the darkness settles in.  Deep shadows, cat on the TV tray, alert and eyes dilated.  Black holes now, ears perked, off the tray onto the table, the reassuring picture of Vanessa at rest with her cat standing guard.  What does she see?  I see nothing there, yet her eyes follow and track, left to right and back again.  The cat, only one paw from the wild I think returns to the tray, her self appointed station a couple of times a day.  Sometimes animals save us from ourselves.  I shall rest easy knowing the walking dander bomb is on guard and protecting me from the unseen.

Now Thursday in the dark of the early morning, watching pundits interview pundits on PBS discussing the economy I find myself disappointed with the length of time it has taken me to come back.  Perhaps it’s the flair of carpel tunnel in my left hand sending excruciating pain up the arm and persisting long after.  I just registered where my brace is in general terms.  Not enough energy to get up and get it.  Not enough energy has been my hallmark this week, now down to a pain pill every 12 hours or so I hope to be done with them. 

Today is see the Ologists and get the staples out day.  More importantly it is Vanessa’s Birthday.  I hate the cancer for keeping me from my appointed rounds on her birthday.  I cannot imagine a gift worthy of her love and sacrifice for me during this past year of hardship.  I shall try to make her day a jolly one, despite the hospital meetings this morning.  We will have Jocelyn with us for these consultations, our secret weapon. I cannot tell where my Women are on my condition.  I find in my readings in such publications as the Journal of Urology that various studies have been done on post chemo therapy different from the what I have recieved.  Dr. K felt I might be a candidate for radiation which will put me in the care of the team Radiation Oncologist. After all if I can add a couple of years without it killing me it seems to him I should.  Now from Oncologist to Urologist to Radiation Oncologist my graduation to being a possible candidate for radiation takes me to a new ologist and a new fat file to be created.  Dr. Hahn was not so enthused about radiation so today we meet with them and get the skinny.  No sense second guessing what’s next I think I will just let the day unfold as it will, remembering all day first and foremost it is Van’s day. As I sit here and the PBS news hour takes time to show me the pictures of the most recent killed in our ill fated military forays.  Ten children, ten sons, ten friends gone and all the lineage that may have come from them.  Ironic I should see this at this time, but I am glad I did.  One more Vicodin this morning, I hope it’s the last one I have to take.    

Snicker's Diary

Snickers

Day 2,737.5 of my captivity.  This afternoon I got the big loud one to do the back rub thing.  I thanked him by not biting him.  He goaded me with milk but I had none of it.  Going to work on the one of my gender here who has the illusion she is the alpha cat.  Have her responding to various commands including lots of non verbal stuff.  Going to try to get her to cluck like a chicken.  Ha ha, who's the alpha now beeeotch.
The black SOB on the back deck figured out that she has toes and I don’t.  Yeoweeeeee!!!  She's been teaching me the finer points of birding, frogging and basically being a local big cat.  I still don't like her and I don't care
We all know about his tumor, smells just like Molly’s did.  We try to be nice to the big SOB but all we get is a few biscuits and some dutch rub crap.  Good behavior has got me some extra time outside.  Blackie took me out to the wild beyonds last night.  I hope to make my escape soon and be in Florida for Halloween.

A Snickers Event

September 2 at 6 AM and I finish my coffee and a few back issues of some journals I enjoy I am met by Snickers at the entry to the dining room, meowing fervently and blocking my path. Snickers is a long hair something that even when perfectly stationary is producing a fine cloud of dander flying everywhere. In alert mode she extends her significant coat out to make herself bigger. Such was her profile as she looked up at me and loudly meowed. Of course at this hour of the morning I know the game. I started it by doing it once, and she has us repeat it occasionally. I think she is polishing the routine so she can train her Mother. I said OK and Snickers led me to the utility room door, I followed her in and she jumped up on the water softener, a 30” tall affair with a flat top where her bowl is placed. I stepped up, she turned to me, I began the dutch rub on her back just up from the tail and told her what a fine animal she is and how lucky I am to have her. She then turned and buried her face in her breakfast. This is the only time in our daily routine when Snickers allows my approach, I can even lay my head on her back during this game, a move that would only mean puncture wounds and hard feelings at any other time.
I continue to experience an increased sensation of edema in my left arm. It is a tingling accompanied by an ache deep in the limb, a tired stiffening kind of ache. We took measurements for baseline yesterday to see of it is edema or just a reaction to increased gym activity. I pray it is the latter.

On Being Cat Strated

The heat is again oppressive. I am dripping with the AC blowing on me as I write this. Does talking about your medical stuff come with old age? Thinking back on the weekend picnic I can only imagine how the support group must be, with all the gory details likely including urine and fecal details out the wahzoo. My lymphodema is a point of curiosity. The muscle I apparently pulled scraping the gutters or lifting the punching bag or some other worthy endeavor is definitely getting better with the passing of days. I walked a mile or so this morning, unable to make the pace but able to make the distance.
I have also realized I now respond to non verbal commands from 4 legged family members.
The Cat’s Furtive Glance
Told me the door to the laundry room where the food and litter pan were was closed.
Told me that the other cat was on the porch and wanted in.
Told me she was afraid.
Told me she wanted to play.
Told me to leave her alone.
Told me she was hungry.
Told me she wanted out.
Told me she wanted in.
I’ve been cat strated as Rex would say.
Another unintended consequence is my new found relationship with the house cats, who graciously shared their domicile and keepers time with me during my darkest hours. They have trained me well as you can see. Ah if only we could bottle this technique that trains humans so effectively without vocalization of the commands. Of course that is not to say they are not crybabies at times but for the most part the cats are quietly adhering to their daily routine and schedule as close as they can, and training us to do our part to keep that schedule in order. They have both proven to be good company and I am glad they are part of the family and all of that, but there is certainly something quite different about these two. Our house cat previous to these two was Claws, a Siamese of sorts that lived nearly 20 years, ruling inside and out with fully armed toes (hence his name). From a kitten I (first ran over HIM with my truck) trained him like I would dog and started his life with a daily dose of German Shepherd in the garage until he got use to it.
These two cats have resisted my efforts to treat them with the same glory. I find myself trained like a dog. So it is that the cat can command and I will respond with no more than a furtive glance.