Disjointed Digression

In our bedroom we have a bedroom suite that as a corner piece that stands about 3 feet tall with some drawers in it and a large flat top that overhangs the drawers (so that the top will fit with the other pieces of the suite). On top of that corner piece is a TV. Behind the corner piece is a window, but the corner piece does not completely but up against it so there is a small amount of room between the back of the corner piece and the window.

What we found out is that the small space is kitty sized. One night Loki jumped from the bed to another part of the bedroom suite and walked down to inspect the TV. We put him back on the floor, but he just did it again. Candy said “I just know he’s gonna fall back behind the TV.” Which meant behind the corner piece. The next day I walk into the bedroom to get something and I see a furry face peeking out from a crack between the corner piece and another chest of drawers in the bedroom suite. Loki had fallen back there. There was actually quite a bit of room for him to move about back there. I called Candy in to help me get the crazy little cat. I could almost reach him, but he did not want to be picked up. Candy had to jingle a cat toy to get Loki close enough for me to grab him.

As I was trying to get Loki close enough to pull him out from behind the furniture, I noticed that he had almost been completely devoured by dust bunnies. He had dust and cobwebs all over him! After we extracted him safely, Candy brushed off most of the dust and cobwebs with her hand, then asked me to hold him. “Where are you going?” I asked, holding a squirming cat.

“To get a lint roller” she told me.

I was afraid that the lint roller would wind up pulling most if not all the hair from the poor kitty. but I kept my mouth shut. Candy came in with held lint roller and began running it briskly over the cat. Loki was not happy about this, but I don’t think it actually pulled any hair out. After short but vigorous session with the lint roller we let Loki go. Loki is fine, but we think (and maybe hope) that he is too traumatized to get back there again.

Last week Candy and I went to the Evil Wal-Mart™. We try to go later in the evening when less people are there, because I hate crowds, and I hate people. As we are looking for a parking space, we note that there are a lot of people in the parking lot, going in and coming out of the store. Not an “OMG riot at Evil Wal-Mart™!” amount of people, but more than usual. Candy wonders “Why are there so many people at (Evil)Wal-Mart(™)?”

“Because it’s hot.” I reply

“You don’t go to (Evil)Wal-Mart(™), when its hot.” she retorts.

And I mumble “When I was a kid and it was hot” and I mumble something.

“What did you say?” she asks.

I’ve since come up with a way of trying to tell if she is mad at me because she heard me utter things that I should not be saying to her. It’s actually easier than I thought it would be, I just ask “What did you hear?”

She looks me straight in the face and says “When I was a kid and it was hot, we’d go to Mortamus Martigan’s.”

Trying not to laugh I repeat what I had originally said, but much clearer “When I was a kid and it was hot, we’d go to (Evil)Wal-Mart(™) and buy water guns”.

“What the Hell is a Mortamus Martigan’s?” I ask

A little frustrated Candy replies “Hell, I don’t know, I thought it might be one of those places…”

Those places. Ah, yes I know those places all too well…

“What kinda place?” I ask.

“You know! A place you play stuff, games, they have names like that.”

And I know exactly what she meant, really I did. But for the life of me, I could not think of the word “arcade”. I could only think of an arcade I used to frequent in my younger days “Odyssey”. We reached a silent agreement, neither of us could bring out the right word, but we knew what was meant.

This morning we woke up somewhat early. With the rain we decided to stay home and do nothing. Loki decided to change that for us, involuntarily. Loki’s nictitating membrane (third eyelid) was partially covering his left eye, and it looked like it was stuck (Similar to the picture, which is not Loki.) Not knowing what to do we tried massaging his closed eye trying to get the membrane to return to the corner of his eye. That had no effect. So Candy thought that if we put some of her eye/contact drops in his eye maybe that would help. When we tried to do that, he just closed his eye and his head got wet. So Candy called the emergency veterinarian, and they said to bring him in. So we packed him into his carrier and got him into the car. While Candy drove, I had Loki in the back seat so I could see him. We had gotten about three blocks form the house and I looked into the carrier and Loki’s eye looked normal now. So I pulled him out of the carrier and got a good look, and sure enough he was fine, so we turned around and went home. We decided that if the problem came back, we’d just threaten to take him to vet again.

Before Queue was diagnosed with Lymphoma, Candy was in the process of getting me a birthday present… Loki the munchkin kitten. 

Loki is by no means a replacement for the Cat Daddy, the Monkeymanx, his Royal Manxness Queue.   Candy, wanting to spoil me, and I think she secretly wanted a kitten, heard me talk about these unique (aka mutant) cats called munchkins. They are normal cats in every way except one, they have short legs. They are kinda like the dachshund of the cat world. But I digress…

We now have a kitten running around terrorizing the house, living up to his name! The first few days after we got him (he was seven weeks old) were a bit tough. First he had fleas. We made sure we put anti-flea stuff on Zaida and Queue, and picked off as many fleas as we could find on the poor little guy, even going so far as to bathing him. We put some anti-flea stuff on Loki as well, and cleared up the flea problem.  We took him to the vet the second day we had him, and found out he had intestinal parasites. We were told that is actually really common in kittens. The parasites were affecting his poo, in a similar fashion as Queues which made us worry that he too had cancer. The vet told Candy that the kitten did not have cancer, and as a rule kittens don’t get cancer. So we had to drug the little guy. After two weeks the parasites were not gone, and we had to get more drugs. Finally, this week he seems to be getting better.

Loki loves to play; he loves to attack things like his toys, the rug, a sock, his own tail, our feet, Zaida, and Queue. Yes Loki, 1/5^th the size of Zaida or Queue will attack them, because he wants to play. Sometimes Zaida plays with him, sometimes she runs, other times she gives her mean growl/snap to send him away. Queue on the other hand wants no part of it. It’s kinda odd because Loki seems to look up to Queue, and wants to be near him but for the most part Queue ignores, or hisses at Loki. Every once in a while Queue will just sniff Loki and not hiss, so I think there is hope for them to get along.

Other things that Candy got me for my Birthday were: a big bag of candy and Battlestar Galactic seasons 1 and 2 on DVD.

So a few months ago, Candy noticed that Queue was having a problem when he went to the bathroom. I don’t want to gross you out with details, so I’ll just refer to this as his poo problem. Candy took him to the vet. The vet said that they were not sure what his problem was, and they would like to try putting Queue on a steroid, but the vet went on to say, Queue has a heart murmur, and a steroid could cause a heart attack, if the murmur was not just due to Queue being ten years old. To make sure, the vet would need to do a sonogram. (I think I’ve mentioned that before). The vet gave us a few other options to try. First we changed his food. That had no effect on his problem. Then we tried some pills, at first we were crushing them up into soft food for him. Then we changed to another type of pill that he could taste in the soft food, so we broke out the pill shooter. Much to our surprise, the pill shooter worked very well. Queue didn’t like it, but no one got hurt. I would wrap him in a towel so just his head was poking out, hold him like a baby, and Candy would force the pill shooter into his mouth past his protesting tongue and pop the pill in. Queue would swallow it immediately.

Unfortunately the pills did not help. Candy took him back to the vet, and we decided to get the sonogram done, the vet also let us know that they would sonogram his stomach area, so they could diagnose his problem better.

Candy took him to get the sonogram done, while he was there, they found that he had fluid in his chest cavity. They extracted some of the fluid and sent it to a pathologist (I believe). Oh, and the heart murmur was not a problem, it was a “dippy septum”. (I might be getting the medical terms wrong, sorry I never took biology.)

The sonogram showed that Queue has a thickening of his intestines. Not really  a growth or mass, but a thickening. The fluid they extracted was lymph fluid. In the words of a Magic 8-Ball “Outlook not so good.” So now we had to take Queue to an internal specialist. I went with Candy to take the poor manx to this new vet. The main reason I went was because the word cancer had come up a few times in conjunction with the thickening and lymph fluid.

The new vet was very nice and took Queue to another room to extract some cells from his lymph nodes. After examining the cells, and consulting with another specialist there, the vet was 75-80% sure that Queue has lymphoma. Cancer of the lymph system. Since the lymph system is all over the body, it could pop up anywhere. It appears to have popped up in his intestines. She could not be 100% sure with out doing a biopsy on part of Queue’s intestines. Candy and I didn’t want to traumatize Queue with surgery. So we decided to treat him for cancer. The doctor gave us three choices (I might not be remembering these correctly, but here goes):

1) Chemotherapy that uses similar if not the same drugs as human chemotherapy. The drawbacks to this are cost, and having to take Queue into the vet once a week (an hour trip each way). Also Queue would be lethargic for a few days after treatment (as lethargic as a cat gets) and would just be getting back to normal when it came time for another treatment.

2) The vet told us of one drug that seemed to work as well as the chemo in this situation, and all we had to do was inject Queue once a week with a steroid (I forget the name it’s something like dexamethodrine).

3) This option was just something to treat the symptoms (at least that’s what I took from it.) It would most likely not do anything to the cancer, but would probably clear up his poo problem.

We opted for the Steroid injections. Queue has been on these for two weeks, next week we take him back to the vet for a check up, and to see where we need to go from here.

Everything I’ve read online has given a time frame of four to nine months of life from the diagnosis of lymphoma.

What is odd (and I’m not complaining in the least here) is that other than his poo problem, Queue shows no signs of being sick. No loss of appetite, no vomiting, no less energy, if anything he has actually put on a little weight. I’m sure that will change as his condition gets worse, so I’ll enjoy my time with him as much as I can.

Update: Candy and I don’t want people to have the wrong impression. After seeing the specialist we are more hopeful than hopeless. Since Queue is still acting fine, has no additional symptoms and we have started a course of treatment, we have a positive outlook on the future. The time frame we were given is just an estimate and is in no way written in stone. The Specialist even said that she has another feline patient that has been on this treatment for over 2 years now and is still healthy and has a good quality of life. So thank you all for your concern, but at this time we would much rather hear and/or read the “it is so good to hear Queue is doing well” then the “oh I am so sorrys”

The other day, Candy and I were walking out to the car on our way to get some food.  We saw a neighbor cat, an orange tabby, whom we call Mr. Orange (I believe his real name is Scotty) hunkered down, ears flat back against his head and growling.  The object of his ire was another orange tabby from a few buildings over. The tabby from a few buildings over was all puffed up, growling, and appeared to have the upper hand. Candy decided that we need to do something!  She rushed back into the house to get the water gun that we use to discipline Queue and Zaida.  In the time that she was in the house, the cat from the other building was moving into position to strike a blow.  Just before the fur actually started flying, Candy came out, green and orange plastic gun held out in front of her, stalking with determination toward the two cats.  As she got into range, she started shooting the water gun, and shouted “This is Mr. Orange’s turf! Go back to your own building! Get out of here!” over and over.

I’m honestly not sure what scared the “foreign” cat more the yelling or the water gun, but the cat trotted off.  He didn’t go very far, and we got into the car.  Since the “foreign” cat was still hanging around somewhat close, Candy handed me the water gun, I rolled down my window and tried to shoot him, even though he was out of range.  Candy, turned the car so that she could grab the water gun back and do a drive by on the cat, saying”Go back to your building!” 

So here I am again.  Trying to blog.  I’ve had a lot of things happen in my life recently and I haven’t had time to blog. 

First and foremost, Candy and I got engaged.  The actual wedding date has yet to be decided, but we’ve taken that first step of spending eternity together. 

Earlier this month, my mom had a minor heart attack, and had to have heart bypass surgery.  Candy and I drove down to Beaumont to see her before and after the surgery.  She was doing good.  But then when she went back in for a follow up, her stitches opened up again and they had to pack the wound with gauze and are now using a “wound vac” on it to help her heal.  She is in good spirits and getting better. 

Not like this matters much, I’ve been playing a lot of games, mostly World of Warcraft (still). 

I just wanted post something while I was thinking about it, and to test out Live Writer from Microsoft.

{Now Listening to Guns N’ Roses -  Sweet Child O’ Mine}

We were at Target, doing a little shopping, when I came across something that I could use to get Zaida to be more of “my” dog. It was a doggy shirt. I used to say that people that dress thier pets are crazy, crazy I tell you! Wait a second, I am crazy, aren’t I. .
But I just thought it would be a good “fit” to turn the dog to the dark side. As you may or may not know I have a pirate flag hanging in my computer room.

So I thought it was very fitting to get a pirate shirt for Zaida!

Zaida likes to let you dress her, according to Candy, but after a while, Zaida get tired of it. When we got home, I put the shirt on her. What is kinda funny is that form the front it looks like Zaida is wearing a muscle shirt.
Being the freak that I am, I had to try to to get Queue into the shirt. It looked like it would fit. Candy was very much against me trying to put the shirt on Queue. But I couldn’t help myself, it just looked like it would fit on the cat too!
Me: “This will totally fit on the cat!”
Candy: “I’m not going to be a part of that! I am not helping you traumatize the cat.”
Me: “Awww,come on, he’ll look really cool!”
Candy: “He will claw the living shit out of whoever tries to put that thing on him.”
Me: “It’ll be worth it, he won’t claw that much.”something
Candy: “You go ahead, but you better not bleed on the carpet.”

So I grabbed the cat, calmed him down, then quickly stuffed the cat into the shirt. Oddly enough the cat didn’t scratch me once. But he was VERY unhappy about being in the shirt.

As you can see from the cats ears he is very pissed off. Taking the shirt off him was pretty easy, and again, he never scratched me. My cat puts up with my shit so well!

A little bit of oldish news…
Oct 2nd I started a new job! No more working nights! I really like my new job. I’m my company’s computer guy (so to speak). When I left my old job, my immediate supervisor (who had only just started) was pretty upset. I’m really glad I got a new job, I was not very happy with the manager at my old job. So, I’ve been at my new job almost three months and I still like it.

Another bit of old news, Queue has had the collar off for a long time. He only wore it for four days, by the end of that time, his scabs had gone away, He tried to scratch himself a few times, but he has healed fairly well.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how Queue was scratching his head too much. We tried giving him allergy medicine, but that seemed to have no effect. We decided to get Queue one of those collars that will not allow him to scratch. One of those cone type things….
We came home, found the manx on the top of the recliner, one of his favorite perches. I held him down and Candy snapped the collar on him.

Needless to say, he was pretty upset about the situation. He hopped off the chair, and immediately started to freak out! I think he was seeing the cone in his peripheral vision and didn’t know what it was, so he kept backing up from it. After a few minutes of going around the room in reverse, he decided that he could not get away from the new blue thingie, so he started to cautiously walk around normally. Well, mostly normally, on every other step he’d bob his head as if he was trying to duck under something. If he bumped the side of the cone into anything, he’d back up or jump. Of course every time he bumped into something Candy would laugh. After a few dirty looks from me,she would just giggle, and finally the cat’s pitiful plight only made her snicker.
The next day I came home for lunch and to check on my poor manx. I was fearing the worst, thinking that somehow the cone was caught on the gate as he tried to jump over or something else that was extremely improbable. He was fine, but was moping. By his second day in the collar he seems to be adjusting to it, but still is not anywhere in the general vicinity of happy.
We hope that after a week (or less) the scabs on his head will have healed and he will not feel the need to scratch his head so much that he causes scabs. I guess if he goes back to scratching we’ll need to take him back to the vet and see where we need to go from there.