So, essentially, our neurologist feels that lymphoma is the only thing left that this could be. Her symptoms are entirely consistent. The spinal tap is to confirm this.
Spinal lymphoma has a very poor prognosis, as it spreads throughout the body and is not localized. We are looking at 4 to 6 weeks here. 5 months, maybe, with chemo. About a quarter of cats who do chemo live an additional 2 years.
Our time with Olive has gotten cut drastically short; we have but to confirm this. Jason and I have been a total mess.
As for how we progress: chemo for cats is a bit different than for humans. It either starts to work fairly quickly, or not at all. We will not be putting her through a lengthy chemo routine. If the neuro says that lymphoma has spread badly already, we will not be doing chemo at all. Our number one priority is keeping her happy and comfortable for whatever time she has left. She's allowed out of the bedroom when we're home, and she comes to bed with us at night. She is perfectly content to cuddle and accept tummy kisses and is essentially in the best of all possible spirits, considering. The hard part is going to be on us, her people, to make the most humane decisions for her.
People keep asking if they can donate. Honestly, I have a hard time with outright donations, but if the cost of a round of chemo is going to be what I think it might be, you can send the paypal to sihaya09 at gmail dot com with our many thanks. Please include a mailing address so we can send you a thank you card.
We ask that if you are a friend of ours and local, that you spend some time with us this week, because us being alone is a really really bad idea and we need the distraction of hugs and movies. Give my cell a call, we want to see your face.
Aside from that, I deal really, really poorly with loss. Loss of this particular furbaby, whom we've loved and brought up from kittenhood, is already eating at me. I haven't been able to eat anything since Jason called from the doctor's office. I feel like I might throw up all the time, though there is nothing in my body to throw up. I cried myself to sleep last night. Jason is not faring much better. This is not fair. It's not right. I'm am angry and there are not enough words to express my sorrow. I need to get a good hi-res pic of Jason and Olive for a photo to be framed. There's long been a plan for a photocollage for Squeaky. I think we will now be planning a tribute for two.
Spinal lymphoma has a very poor prognosis, as it spreads throughout the body and is not localized. We are looking at 4 to 6 weeks here. 5 months, maybe, with chemo. About a quarter of cats who do chemo live an additional 2 years.
Our time with Olive has gotten cut drastically short; we have but to confirm this. Jason and I have been a total mess.
As for how we progress: chemo for cats is a bit different than for humans. It either starts to work fairly quickly, or not at all. We will not be putting her through a lengthy chemo routine. If the neuro says that lymphoma has spread badly already, we will not be doing chemo at all. Our number one priority is keeping her happy and comfortable for whatever time she has left. She's allowed out of the bedroom when we're home, and she comes to bed with us at night. She is perfectly content to cuddle and accept tummy kisses and is essentially in the best of all possible spirits, considering. The hard part is going to be on us, her people, to make the most humane decisions for her.
People keep asking if they can donate. Honestly, I have a hard time with outright donations, but if the cost of a round of chemo is going to be what I think it might be, you can send the paypal to sihaya09 at gmail dot com with our many thanks. Please include a mailing address so we can send you a thank you card.
We ask that if you are a friend of ours and local, that you spend some time with us this week, because us being alone is a really really bad idea and we need the distraction of hugs and movies. Give my cell a call, we want to see your face.
Aside from that, I deal really, really poorly with loss. Loss of this particular furbaby, whom we've loved and brought up from kittenhood, is already eating at me. I haven't been able to eat anything since Jason called from the doctor's office. I feel like I might throw up all the time, though there is nothing in my body to throw up. I cried myself to sleep last night. Jason is not faring much better. This is not fair. It's not right. I'm am angry and there are not enough words to express my sorrow. I need to get a good hi-res pic of Jason and Olive for a photo to be framed. There's long been a plan for a photocollage for Squeaky. I think we will now be planning a tribute for two.