Reiki for kitties, and feral instincts re-assert themselves

Once again Mama is having a terribly hard time writing for one of her angels. But she did want to share something furry special one of her Catster furriends did for us the night before I journeyed to StarClan.

This other Catster Mama offered me a distance Reiki session, to try to ease any distress I might be in and get a feel for how I was doing. My own Mama had no experience with Reiki before this, and she was absolutely stunned at how much I was able to communicate, across time and space, and how well it correlated with what she had been observing for the previous week or so.

Here is what the nice Reiki lady said about our session:

"Dougal was open to the Reiki last night around 10-10:30. First ,I want to state that I don't do distance Reiki often and this is only to add to what your intuition tells you. This was my impression: Dougal is not in a lot of pain. His throat hurts a little kinda like the beginning of a sore throat but he is not worried about it. His throat feels like he has a lump- like a stuck pill that won't go down. It takes some work to swallow and he is tired of it. But, not a lot of pain. He has some trouble getting air. Like a stuffy nose and an asthmatic feeling. He can breathe but it's hard to get enough air. This is a little worrisome and one reason he doesn't move around a lot. When he sleeps and rests he feels ok. Not good, but ok. (Kind of like when we are sick and find just the right spot on the couch and take a nap) When he moves around he is reminded of his troubles. His tummy doesn't feel like eating. He doesn't feel a sense of emergency, he is cozy enough in his nest. He didn't feel I could help him but it was ok I stopped by.
So,this is what I think from our encounter: if you are giving him pain meds. they are working.Some pain meds restrict breathing, i don't know if that is a problem or if something else is going on there. I don't know about the slight nausea. Maybe it is from not eating or maybe from the medication? He may have trouble smelling food to since his nose feels clogged up.Hope this helped a little. I hope something can help take the swelling down in his throat."

Well, as we know nothing could take down the swelling in my throat any more - I was already taking Metacam, and steroids were not an option with my heart condition. But Mama was so glad to learn that her impressions of how I was doing were mostly correct, and I wasn't in terrible discomfort, but I didn't think there was much that could be done to help my condition either. My breathing restrictions were due to the tumor growing larger and clogging my throat, but at least I wasn't panicky about that - I was just withdrawing from activity and interaction, trying to take things as easy as possible. And if did feel nauseated, as the Reiki lady felt, it was probably because I was unable to swallow properly, and was choking on everything that tried to go down my throat, whether it was food or medicine or my own saliva.

Mama feels terrible about having to send me to Starclan when she did, but all of these symptoms correlated with her own observations, and indicate the disease was very rapidly approaching the point where I would be in acute distress and struggling to breathe. I was eating so little that I was at high risk for developing hepatolipidosis (fatty liver disease), and I was very unhappy with Mama's attempts to encourage me to eat. In addition I was choking and gagging on my medicine, so she was worried that it wouldn't be as effective as it should be, since I was spitting out an unknown quantity. But she didn't want to give me more, and potentially give an overdose. Finally, as I was reverting to more and more feral behaviors, she was very afraid that I would get outside and not come back, and she would be unable to find me and help me at the end. She loved me too much to allow me to curl up in a thicket somewhere and hunker down for the duration, not eating or drinking and not getting any medicine to ease discomfort, just toughing it out in the cold and rain. It was kind of what I was showing her I wanted to do, but she wouldn't let me.

I was not the most cooperative kitty patient Mama has ever had, but she knows I couldn't help following my instincts as I got sicker. I left my life on earth as I lived so much of it ... a little suspicious, a little bit of a loner, resisting help from the hoomans even when I knew they were trying to take care of me. I didn't want to be bothered by Mama trying to clean up my copious drooling, but it did feel better to be dry for a little while afterward. The last few days, I didn't even want to be bothered with brushies, which I loved more than anything when I was healthy. When the whitecoat came to the house, and Mama was trying (and failing) to purrsuade me to come out from my safe place, I did my best to let her know I didn't hold any of what was happening to me against her. I blinked at her a lot, and she blinked back, so I know she knew what I meant. I just needed my space. I knew she didn't want any of it to be happening either, but even the nicest, most loving Mama can't shield a cat from his destiny. She could make sure my Daddy was there to snuggle me, and she could make sure it was a relatively painless passage to the Bridge, in my house and not at a scary stressy hospital - and not outside on my own. But still, I wasn't really ready to come here. I was only four years old. I liked my life a lot, and I was never going to give it up without a struggle.

As my furriends Calvin and Misha say, Cancer Stinks.

Diary of the day? ME?

I am so grateful to be named Diary of the Day today. I can't quite believe it. I'm not quite used to things here at the Rainbow Bridge yet, but I can tell you the food is good and I feel like eating it!

I also can't believe how full my heart basket is. It makes me feel glowy inside that so many kitties have send pawmails, and commented on my diary, and made me pictures and given me rosies. I am furry grateful to all of you - it will take me a little while to send my thank-yous, but I want you to know each of these thoughtful acts means a great deal to me.

Calvin told me a lot of angels are going bowling tonight. I've never gone bowling before, so I hope I do okay.

I didn't know if I'd still have a secatary at the Bridge, but it seems I can still let Mama know what to write for me. Right now she's tired, so I'm going to let her sleep, but we'll be back later. I have a lot to tell efurrybody!

Purrs,
Dougal

rest.

Mama says I can rest now.

I want to rest.

I also want to thank my wise angel furriends Misha and Molly and Alex and Tyler and Hazel Lucy for looking out for me these past few months. It will be nice to have furriends waiting for me when I get to the Rainbow Bridge.

I hope, since I once was a feral boy, that I'm allowed to visit the StarClan area of the Rainbow Bridge, even if I can't walk there all the time.

Tired, soft purrs,
Dougal MacDuff, Laird o' Lansdowne & By Wood in the Darbyshire.

Tired and grumpy

I am a tired boy, and I don't feel well at all.

The worst thing is, the hoomans won't just let me sleep in peace. They're always trying to find me, and then they put yucky medicine in my mouth. I never did like the stuff, and now I like it even less because it makes me choke.

I just want to relax in the dark, and not be bothered by anyone. I don't want snuggles. I don't want ear scritches. I don't want combing. I don't want Ocean Whitefish, or Mideast Feast, or Polynesian BBQ, because it makes me choke even when Mama purr-ays it in the blender with water.

Being sick stinks.

Cancer stinks. So does FIV.

I got up really early this morning because I was hungry, and for some strange reason the Mama was up too. She's NEVER up early in the morning! That's the Daddy's job! Things sure have been strange around here lately.

The Mama wouldn't feed me, and I figured she just didn't know how things were supposed to be done, so I kept hanging out in the kitchen trying to clue her in. She scritched my head and told me I am nice (duh!) but she didn't catch on and give me any noms.

Then she walked into the dining room and I heard a ZIP noise. Do you know what a ZIP noise means? In this house, it means being popped into the black box and going in the car! Eeek! I was NOT ready for that!

I hid under the couch, but she moved it. Then I ran upstairs and hid under a bed, but she moved THAT. Then she got hold of me and put me in the box and ZIPPED it shut. Drat.

Soon I was back in the same hospital I was in the other day, and the speshulist was nice to me again. Then things got hazy, and I went to sleep I think, and next thing I knew I was back in my black box and there was a big goofy drooly dog sniffing me through it. Mama rescued me and put me and my box up high, so I didn't have to be sniffed by that stupid thing. Then we were in the car again, and Mama unZIPPED the carrier a little so I could poke my head out, and as I looked out the window I told her a long story. Things were still hazy, so I forget what the story was about.

Mama told me some stuff too. She told me my cancer is in my left tonsil and is quite large, and although operating is possible, the speshulist doctors think it is unlikely to remove it all - and it IS likely to make me very uncomfortable, and also expose me to infection. My left lymph node also is enlarged, indicating the cancer likely is in it and my other glands as well. Finally, I have kidney and liver irregularities that indicate it may have spread elsewhere in my system. So no Sir Jerry for me.

Mama said she will give me Metacam to slow the tumors' growth, reduce inflammation, and relieve discomfort. Depending on how that works over the next week or so, there is also a steroid/painkiller option that we could try. But at some point in the next few months I might start having trouble breathing, and then it's my job to let Mama know, so she can help me journey to the Bridge. Telling me this made my Mama furry sad, but she promised me that whatever time I have left will be as happy and comfy as she can arrange it - so I'm not going to worry about it yet.

The cancer speshulist said this is one of the rarer forms of oral cancer, and when it strikes younger cats like me, it often is linked to FIV+ status.

About Speshulists

Last night I starved, and I was thirsty too. But Mama snuggled me, and I held her hand in between my paws while we slept, and I pretended I wasn't starving or thirsty.

This morning Mama took me on a long car ride to see a cancer speshulist. Mama stayed in the room with me, so I wasn't too scared. The speshulist and the tech girl were nice to me, so I didn't have to swat them. I didn't like the poking part, but it didn't last that long.

The speshulist said I was a good boy, and I opened my mouth nice and wide for her, which lots of cats don't do. Maybe I should learn how to keep my mouth shut?

But she is not a mouth speshulist, and she wants a mouth speshulist to take a look at me. So I have to go back on Thursday to meet the mouth speshulist, who can decide if the thing growing in my mouth and maybe in my ear can be taken out, or if we have to use medicine instead to try to shrink it and control it. I vote for taking it out! I do NOT like medicine, and I do NOT like the rude intrusive thing in my mouth. I did not give it purrmission to live there, and I want to evict it!

But either way, seeing the mouth speshulist means more starving tomorrow night. Phooey. I guess I will have to hold Mama's hand again to forget about being hungry. But at least I don't have to be thirsty this time.

Mama gave me some Weruva canned food when I came home. It was good, but I'm not sure it was sufficient recompense for being starved.

Scared.

It looks like I have cancer. I am scared.

I am also sleepy, because I am taking medicine.

I think I am going to be taking a lot of medicine from now on.

I don't like medicine. I don't like whitecoats.

I don't like cancer.

Zzzzz.

An evil twin.

The Vet met my Evil Ferocious Twin today.

First I got weighed. That was fine. (I am getting quite pleasantly plump though! I have gained 1.5 pounds since December.) The scale was very comfy, so I kept right on sitting on it.

Then the vet came in and gave me a routine FIP booster. That was fine, although a bit weird. I stayed on the scale.

Then Mama put me back in my carrier. That was SUPER fine.

But then Mama and the vet started talking about my weight. And the vet said that yes indeed I am overweight, but before he puts me on any sort of diet he would like to confirm my FIV+ status. Because I seem super-healthy now, but neither he nor Mama want to put me on a diet and then I get sick and lose too much weight.

Well, I'm down with that conclusion, but unfortunately the testing part meant Mama had to take me back OUT of the carrier. And that was NOT fine.

I was grumbly. I did not want to get out of my carrier, and I did not want to sit on the comfy scale. Then the vet tied a tight rubber thingy around my front leg, and told Mama to hold my paws and my head. She did. And then he stuck me and stole some of my blood! It hurt. I grumbled some more. It took a little while to get the blood flowing, too, so I wasn't very happy about the time involved - time I could have been home happily napping on the bed.

Then he said "okay, buddy, all done," and Mama let go of my paws, and he took that rubbery tie thing off my leg. And then I SCRATCHED him! Ha!

He was surprised at that, and a little grumbly himself. Well, heck, he SAID we were all done! Was Mama just supposed to stand there holding my paws all day?

And he took my blood- it's only fair I took a little of his too!

~~~~

The FIV test came back positive again. Drat. I was hoping that the first test, last year at Forgotten Cats, was a false poz, but I guess not.

Good news is, that means they probably won't make me lose any weight! No diet for me! Yay!

Snoring

It has been observed by the People that I snore.

The Mama in particular finds this very amusing.

If she touches me and I am snoring, I promptly begin to purr. If she stops touching me, I immediately go back to snoring. This has become a game for her.

It doesn't bother me, but I wonder: why is snoring so funny?

Meeting Sir Jerry again

Last Toosday Mama was scritching my ears, and she started smelling something nasty. She sniffed her fingers, and it was on her hand. Pee-yewww! Then she sniffed my right ear, and it was on ME. Yuck!

She couldn't see much through my fur, but she knew it didn't smell healthy, so she applied a warm washcloth, which felt so good I purred. It sure made the washcloth stink though! Then she dabbed at me with something called H-2-0-2, and I kept purring. I hadn't told her that my head was hurting me, but she figured out how to make it feel better anyway!

Next she called the V-E-T. They said to bring me in next morning, so when I was sleeping peacefully on my rocking chair she scooped me up and put me in the black box. Boy was I surprised! But she said she was going to help me feel better, so I didn't growl or hiss or complain. She took me out in the cold, and we took a short RIDE, and the next thing I knew I was at the V-E-T's castle. I hadn't been there for a long time, and they seemed to be expecting me to be a wild crazy thing.

Well, I wasn't. Not at all. I didn't want to get out of the black box, but once Mama got me out I was very well-behaved while the V-E-T looked at me and held me. He said I was a fine well-fed boy, but that I had an abscess and they aren't much fun on the head. As if he had to tell ME that? I didn't complain even when he took my tem-pa-cher, which if you've ever had that done you know is a grave challenge to one's dignity. He said I had a normal tem-pa-cher, which was a good thing considering I also had an infection, and that I'd have to stay at his castle for a little while to get ready to be in a tournament, or to work with a lance - something like that. I don't know.

Then Mama carried me back to a nice quiet room with a comfy chamber with towels in it. I went to sleep, and when I woke up I had these weird blue strings sticking out of the side of my head! I also felt all clean, but a little wobbly, and there were some ladies who helped clean me up when I got sick on myself. They told me it was okay, I was a very good patient and Sir Jerry was "over". I guess that means I beat him good! My head didn't hurt as much as it had done the previous few days, so that was nice. It's weird that I don't remember any lances or any battles or tournaments, though.

Mama came to take me home, and I slept a lot for the next day or two, and she kept squirting this evil liquid into my mouth, but I didn't feel like fighting it. Then I started feeling a lot better, so now I let her know that I don't like that liquid! But she always tells me before she gives it to me that it helps me feel better, and I DO feel better, so she's not trying to pull one over on me. And she gives me treats afterward. So I don't grumble about it, although I have stuck a claw in her hand twice.

I just wonder why I have to have stiff blue strings attached to my head? Are they a special sort of head-dress just for me? Maybe they signify I'm the head warrior of Clan MacDuff, or that I've again vanquished Sir Jerry, even though I don't remember him? That would be cool. I don't think that's it though.