I'm going to skip the fact that I haven't posted on here in a while and get down to the bad stuff.
Last week, Chewy started acting weird. She wasn't eating, she looked skinny, she was quieter, she was clingier, and she wasn't cleaning herself very well. She got better over the weekend.
Then Monday, she started acting odd again. On Tuesday, she wouldn't headbutt Jeremy. So, I decided I'd cancel my job for today and take her to the vet. Both of us figured she had a sore throat. It made sense.
I got up early and called a vet to see when I could bring her in. By 9:10, we were waiting for the vet.
I knew it wasn't good when the tech said Chewy didn't have a fever.
I got even more nervous when the first question the vet asked was if Chewy had been tested for Feline Leukemia.
By 9:30, she had used the cancer word. Lymphoma to be exact.
After feeling her neck, the vet found two massive lumps. Lumps that I couldn't believe how big they were. I had no idea they were there.
So, they took some cells from one of the lumps. These will actually be sent off to a cytologist to look at closer. The vet looked at them to make sure they were viable and weren't just red cell matter. She said she was pretty sure there were lymphocytes.
She asked if I wanted X-rays. I said yes. I wanted a clearer picture.
The X-rays showed that there are two massive lumps in her neck. They're pushing Chewy's trachea all funny. They're not pinching it. But the fact that it is no longer straight explains why she's been coughing, why she'll only eat wet food, and why she hasn't been eating much. She has to keep her head down to feel comfortable. Luckily, her other organs look basically okay. There do appear to be two masses on the lymph nodes around her heart and lungs. But no tumors on the actual organs.
The more disturbing thing was that Chewy has a BB stuck in her back. She's 13 now; she hasn't been an outside cat in 9.5 years. I was pissed. I was ready to drive to Eddyville and just start beating the shit out of people. But obviously, it's not bothering her since it's been there that long. It's still wrong.
Anyway, we are supposed to hear back about the cells by Friday at the latest. They may not be able to get a solid diagnosis from it. That would mean getting a biopsy,which means cutting a big chunk out of Chewy's neck.
I asked the vet what she would do if it were her cat. She's actually gone through this with her 13 year-old-lab. There is no cure for lymphoma. They can possibly put it into remission with chemo. But that would only prolong the inevitable by a few months.
Jeremy and I have decided that's not an option. We're already pretty anti-chemo because of our personal experiences with our parents. Not being able to explain it to Chewy makes it even worse. This also means that we're not going to do a biopsy either. We're just going to be monitoring her, and when she starts to get worse, we know what we have to do.
I have been a mess all day. It's hard to know I'm going to have to say good-bye to my buddy. We've been through a lot together: moving, sickness, college -- she even gave approval for Jeremy. She's never acted like she's gotten older. It's weird to see her actually act her age.
I know this is the right choice though. But, in the mean time, Chewy gets to eat whatever she wants. This means she gets to have a treat of Hagan-Daas every night. She's rather happy about that.
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