Roller Coaster

Bullwinkle is in pretty bad shape this morning. He cried last night and today in a very plaintive way, a way I hadn't heard before. And when I was feeding him thru his feeding tube, on a blanket on the washer (the approved feeding place), he cried a bunch of times as if he was in pain and then peed all over the blanket. That's a big deal because he's always been a very meticulous cat and even last week, when I was feeding him and he had to pee, he just jumped down and went to the litterbox (with me crawling along on hands & knees behind him). He also has a swollen chin from the chemo yesterday -- it looks like a little white goatee. He seems quite miserable all around.

Bullwinkle when he was young.

He'd go out looking for trouble if none was handy.

To make matters worse, I saw Bullwinkle's diagnosing vet briefly yesterday. She asked how he was doing and I said I didn't think I'd gotten him to the cancer place in time for a remission to be a possibility. She bristled and said something along the lines of time not being the reason remission won't be a possibility. I really didn't have it in me to argue -- but I also didn't have it in me to lie -- so I just said, "I wish I'd gotten him there earlier." Her response: "I sense a subtext here." I decided to be a little clearer and said, "I wish you'd referred him." (I don't remember feeling angry at that point, just really sad.) She really bristled then and said now wasn't the time or place to talk about it, and she walked away.

This vet is the only person Bullwinkle has ever growled or hissed at. I wish I'd listened to him earlier -- I'm now thinking he was onto something. And in my small world, she's the vet who said nothing could be done, while two other vets (Drs. Blackshear and Kelly) are saying they've had cats go into remission from this kind of cancer -- sublingual squamous cell carcinoma. Part of the reason I decided to go ahead with the chemo was that I hoped that perhaps this would be an experience the diagnosing vet could learn from -- sadly, it was ultra-clear yesterday that that won't happen.

Bullwinkle's First Chemotherapy Session

Bullwinkle started chemotherapy on Monday. Dr. Kathy Blackshear sent us to the pet cancer clinic and I honestly didn't believe they'd be able to help him -- he hadn't eaten for two weeks and was really skinny (5.7 pounds!). But they did some bloodwork and amazingly, his liver & kidney functions were just fine; and they took some x-rays and learned that the tumor (which is beneath his tongue and attached to it) hadn't grown into the bone. So all that made him a good candidate for at least trying the chemo. And besides, he just seems to be a survivor. He's been telling me all along that he has no intention of dying, ever, and certainly not any time soon. I'm starting to believe him.

I asked for a quote of how much it would all cost before they did anything. The amount is obscenely large -- too large to talk about. Let's just say that: a) I could've bought a fairly decent used car for it; and b) I'm pretty sure I can't afford a used car of any quality. Nonetheless, after I talked to Dr. Jeannette Kelly and felt like I understood what the chances of success were (50/50 that his quality of life would be improved), and looked at my checkbook, and decided I really don't have to go to Arizona next month after all, it was very clear to me that I wanted to try it.

So Bullwinkle came home with me on Monday, completely loopy from all the anesthesia. He immediately busted out of the soft-sided pet carrier, before we ever got out of the clinic, and was hell-bent on running through the parking lot. (Not that he could have -- he couldn't stay upright for more than about 4 or 5 seconds -- but he didn't seem to realize that.) I ended up holding/restraining him in my lap all the way home -- thank goodness my neighbor Joyce was driving. I really don't think I could've done both.

He has a feeding tube now. I fed him (his first food for two weeks!) Monday night and he immediately fell asleep and stayed asleep through three more feedings, into Tuesday. He hadn't been comfortable enough to sleep very much or for very long prior to that. I can also get antibiotics and pain meds into the feeding tube -- that's all very encouraging, and is definitely improving his quality of life already.

Dr. Kelly said it was possible that we'd know if the chemo had a good chance of success within 24 hours. When I asked how I'd know, she said his mouth wouldn't smell so bad, and he'd at least try to eat. Both of those things have already happened, which seems almost miraculous! On the other hand, the right side of his face (which is the side opposite the tumor) is puffed up pretty badly -- he looks like he's half Persian (right side) and half alley cat (left side). I still haven't gotten an answer from the clinic about whether I should be worried about that -- which I hope means it's fairly normal.