Deirdre Saoirse Moen

Well, he is once again Miracle Kitty, having previously survived two rounds of cancer (surgery for first, amputation for second). When we brought him home, Scruffy walked out of his cage, and he didn't seem to be doing that differently than he was before the crisis -- same old kitty.

Well, we took Scruffy to the oncologist today.

The tumor wraps around his joint, which we'd think of as the wrist joint. Vets probably call it that too, but I haven't asked.

She (the oncologist) points out that the purpose of radiation isn't to shrink the tumor, though it does shrink some forms of tumors. The purpose of radiation (especially the pre-surgery kind) is to sterilize the area around the tumor and prevent it from growing or spreading. (She also said that one of the open-ended board exam questions in veterinary oncology was about the purpose of pre-surgical radiation, and that if you answered "to shrink the tumor," you didn't get credit for the question.)

So he'd have to have surgery to remove the tumor. Plus radiation would be 5 days a week for 4-1/2 weeks, and he'd have to have short-term anesthesia every time.

Catch is, he has both some level of kidney failure (elevated creatine levels due to age) and restrictive cardiomyopathy. She explained that the anesthesia was cleared by the kidneys, and that in the case of kidney issues, they had to keep blood pressure elevated. She explained that was much more manageable during surgery than during radiation, and the risk of losing him altogether (or shortening his life) was significant.

Further, he might have to have amputation anyway, and there was still the issue of the problematic tumor removal.

Oh, and if that wasn't enough, she explained that dogs can withstand up to a grey scale (that's what she said, I haven't looked it up yet) of about 40. Cats, she said, tolerated oncology treatments of all kinds better, but this particular type of tumor would require a higher dose -- 57. That didn't sound like a lot of fun.

Therefore, she considered the one-time anesthesia option of amputation the better choice, and after she explained her rationale, we agreed.

We've made the appointment.

The lump seems to be growing back.

I don't know what to do -- Scruffy obviously suffered from the prior surgery, but this seems to be an aggressively-growing cancer. If I left it alone, he'd probably die in a couple of months.

Before this came up this evening, I took a bath, and couldn't keep awake to read my textbook. I'd nod off for just a moment, and when I woke up, I had a new and different story idea, which I was then compelled to write down. Then I'd go back to the book. Lather, rinse, repeat.

The only really good thing to happen today: tacos.

Scruffy just purred louder than I've ever heard him purr before.

This was about 20 minutes after we gave him his nightly analgesic and pilled him with the antibiotic. He ran off for a bit, then came back and purred at us.

Maybe the little guy was in pain. Maybe he was just happy. Dunno. Didn't seem like a defensive purr, though.

Scruffy's got to go in for surgery for his lump. Antibiotics haven't made it go down, so it's likely not bacterial. Warm wishes welcome.

...is a warm and happy cat resting on one's knee.

Scruffy and I have been together since the end of 1993, when he was less than a year old and not yet fully grown.

He's definitely become Rick's cat, but there are times, like now, when Rick's nearby and Scruffy still comes to sit with me.

In that thirteen years, one husband married and died, the several moves within Vermont, then several in SoCal, and now three in northern California. He's survived living with Gandalf, Tiger, and Cooper, and is the last remaining cat of the clan (Gandalf was killed by a fisher cat in 1995; we then got Cooper; Tiger and Cooper both disappeared in 1998).