Change usually starts at a pivotal moment in time. There is that one split second where the realisation sinks in that every second thereafter is never going to be the same again.
For me that moment came on Monday 11 November at 1pm when I picked up my mobile phone and heard that tone of voice. For the life of me I can't recall the conversation, nor the person I was speaking to, nor anything about it. What I can recall with precise detail is that I knew when I heard the first words came that I was going to hear what I did not want to hear.
Cancer.
No one ever wants to hear that word. It is a dismal, scary, final, torturous word, and as much as I had a strong inkling I was going to hear it, I was hoping with all my might that my gut feeling was wrong.
People who know me know that I always refer to my cat, Winky, as 'Number 1 Son'. How can you be so blatantly biased? they ask! How can you have a favourite? Well, he is my eldest, he came to me with a story, I saved his life, and we have been loyally together ever since. He has seen boyfriends come and go, seen me marry, he has moved with me from house to house, he has seen me change jobs and job roles, he has seen me happy and extremely sad, seen me at my best and worst, healthy and through surgery and sickness, he has even seen me naked! He has seen many boarding cats come through our doors and he has seen hundreds of foster cats and kittens coming and going, some of which he nurtured and cared for, others that he hated and hissed and provoked.
With all this change there has also been stability. He has slept on my bed every night, when i've been sick he slept with me on the lounge. He has sat on my lap every night while I watched TV. He has been there waiting for his breakfast as I wake up every morning, and waiting at the door for his dinner as I get home from work. He will always follow me around the yard while I do my gardening. He has watches me from his post while I do the housework. He has smooched my face while I tried to type out blogs on the computer, and he has meowed at me when im running late for 11-sies. Any morning I sleep in he will lick my mouth, then my nose, then my eyelid and if I still don't move then he nips my eyelid. It is a game I play to pretend I'm still asleep because I find that amusing.
So as the phone call sent me into a blur, all I could think of was that my precious number 1 son has cancer. His days are numbered. They always were, and as he got older and older I thought more about this. Since his brother, Sulla, died of cancer in 2012 I made a conscious effort to make every moment count with Winky. He has had the best food money could buy, a mixture of vet recommended kibble, top quality canned, and a blend of human-grade top quality raw and cooked meats. He has had physiotherapy, natural remedies and medical treatment for his arthritis, dental scale and cleans, yearly blood tests, purpose-built cat enclosure to protect him from the world, and he has had many moments throughout every single day where I have looked into his eyes and scratched his chin and behind his ears and told him he is my Number 1 son and I love him more than life itself. So in knowing that I have made every moment count, you would think that I would have clarity of mind with this. I wish that was true.
My logical brain has always overridden my emotional brain, I am always the one who jumps in to say "How can I help you?" when most people would say "I am sorry that you are going through something" Im an action-jackson, not a sympathiser. I am exactly the same with this. I am more focused on getting my action plan organised and figuring out what I can do to make sure he is happy and comfortable and sorting out a medication regime and learning what I can to make sure I exhaust all options to lengthen his quality time here with us. But through all that I am still dying on the inside. My heart is heavy, my world feels dulled, and my happiness is robbed. That moment on the phone I felt like someone had hit me with a giant rubber mallet - BAM! It is funny how a wave of emotion can feel so physical. And then everything thereafter keeps going, life around you keeps moving, people keep talking and work keeps happening but all the while you are in a blur. Its like those ads on tv where they have someone stand still in a busy city street then then keep the camera on them while busy crowds walk past then play it in fast motion. You feel like you are standing there still in your grey cloud and the world just keeps moving all around you.
I think the worst feeling of all that keeps haunting me is guilt. Despite my logical brain telling me we have the best bond and that I have done the very best I could, I still can't help but be flooded with thoughts about 'what did I miss?' Was there anything I did that caused this, did I feed him the wrong food, when I sprayed my deoderant on in the same room he was sleeping and breathing, garden chemicals, household cleaning chemicals, did I break his heart when I went away on vacation? Did the medication I have been giving him cause him damage, there is still so much the medical world doesn't know. Then I think back to the times when I lost my temper with him, when he stole food or pissed on my door, when he threw up on the bed or couch and when he pushed the glass off the bench top. Does he remember those times? Do they override the good stuff? How long has be been in pain? Was he trying to tell me and I missed the signs? Did I hurt him when I picked him up? All those times he pissed me off because he was being fussy and turning away food, it wasn't because he was being pedantic, it was because he felt sick. Bloody hell. How could I miss that? I know the guilt is not a phase, I still feel guilt from Sulla. You just learn to live with it is all. It never goes. You remember it when you have your next cat, and make sure you don't do those things again. You don't, but then you come up with a whole new set of the guilts. That part sucks. I don't know if that applies to humans, although I have loved and lost with humans I never felt the guilt - perhaps because they were not in my care.
Cancer is the worst of all, especially when it is inconclusive. When it comes to pets the testing and diagnostics is so expensive, there is no Medicare, it is all your out of pocket expense and it is a lot more than human diagnostics. And then even when you do get a result it still comes back 'inconclusive'. We dont know exactly what is wrong with Winky, despite his having many blood tests and scans. All we know is that his lymph glands are enlarged as does his intestinal track wall. We dont have exact answers, we are treating 'it is most likely....' scenarios. I remember with Sulla when his tumor on his heart was detected on the scan, from the moment he was diagnosed he never really fully recovered. It was like the anesthetic never really wore off. I didn't want to do anything to shorten Winkys time with us more than it had already been shortened. No anasthetics, no surgery, unless we had definite diagnosis and an assurance of his life being prolonged with quality. No more maybes or 'lets try', i want definites.
So for now, Winky is on a smorgasboard of drugs, pills, potions, lotions, injections, and foods. I feel like everytime I see him I am shoving something down his throat. It is getting to the point where when he sees me he no longer runs up to me and that really hurts. I feel like an evil nasty nurse off a horror movie, I am no longer the provider of good feelings and love to him, i am a torturer. I hate that. We have so little time left and I wanted that to be filled with nothing but love and good times. My hubby has offered to do the medicating but he is not good at it which then makes it into a completely terrifying and painstaking experience. Id rather do it myself and get it done quickly and less traumatically.
Every time I look at him I imagine what it will be like when he is not there laying on the lounge, sleeping on my pillow, walking up the kitchen aisle, standing at the door, looking up at me with those big adoring eyes, and purring by my ear as he sleeps. I wonder what a world will sound like without his very distinct deaf cat MEOW in it, a sound I always loved so much.
Whatever will I do without my Winky-dinks?
I know one day I will have an answer to this, but for now he is here and we are going to just make the most of a bad situation, we are going to love, support, and care for him and his every need, and with the help of his pet insurance policy we will do everything in our power to buy us one more day. And another. And another. And hopefully another more. Hell, if I won lotto I would buy a magic wand and buy him as many days as I was going to be here myself. He is such a sweetheart.
The only positive from the C-word, is that you have time. You know your days are numbered so you make every second count. When you used to push them away when you were busy with other things you stop and put down whatever you were doing (no matter how important) and you pay all your attention to them. You smell their fur and breathe in trying to memorise that scent so you can remember it forever. You take a kazillion photos and videos, every single thing they do and noise they make and step they take is suddenly worthy of being photographed. You cuddle them so tight, like the warmer the cuddle the longer you can make them live. You feed them treats that you know are normally no good for them. You let them do whatever the hell they want. I can only imagine how awful it must be to lose a pet suddenly, with no warning, and no goodbyes. Hit by a car, missing, stolen, random sudden passing. That would be devastating beyond reason. I have to feel very grateful that with the loss of Sulla and Winky I was able to have my time of lavishing them with love.
I think the only thing I can say to end this blog is Make Every Moment Count.
Regardless of your pets health, age, or condition, even if they are 1 year old and in peak health, even when they have just chewed your Jimmy Choo shoe or tore up your newly laid sprinkler system, or pushed Great Grandma Marthas Royal Daulton tea cup off the counter for no other reason than because it amused them, no matter how pissed off you get, #MakeEveryMomentCount
You just never know when it will be your last.
Right now, as I type this, Winky is on my lap, pushing his head to my chin (meaning he wants me to stop typing and give him head kisses), and it is a million more times important for me to oblige him than keep typing so on that note I sign out.
Much love.
