T’s starting to feel better, I think. Better enough to sleep in a shoebox, anyway.
Tricksey is done with her radiation treatments. They’ve stressed her out terribly – not the radiation itself, but the pre-treatment fasting, the drive to the vet, the time in the cage, the anesthesia, the side-effects of the anesthesia that keeps her awake and confused for 36 hours, the days of hangover after that, the fear of me in the morning. She’s stopped grooming herself. She sleeps much more than she used to. She doesn’t purr much anymore.
We postponed last week’s treatment because we wanted to give her a rest, and it definitely helped her. But, yesterday she had to go get that last treatment. And she’s all stoned and miserable today.
But, the doctor says there’s nothing wrong with her, physically.
What a drag. At least it’s over.
T now hides from me when I get up for work (under the guest bed, she’s not that good at hiding). She’s learned that sometimes when I get up for work she has to go to the vet.
Telling her that she only has to go to the vet on Wednesdays doesn’t help.
iPhones have this weird little feature that lets you take ultra-short (3 sec) movies instead of taking boring old still pics. They call it “Live”.
I accidentally took a ‘live’ pic while taking a flash pic of Tricksey’s radiation markings.
And then I found an app which would turn that live pic into a GIF.
And now I’m off to learn something else.
The radiation beam has to be applied to exactly the right place, so as to avoid over-irradiating sensitive areas like her spine, brain, eyes, etc.. To that end, the vet shaved one side of her face and neck and drew alignment marks on Tricksey’s neck with a Sharpie.
Tricksey starts her radiation treatments today.
Nobody is happy about this.
Trickey’s CT scan showed no visible signs of the cancer. And the lymph node that looked strange on the scan was normal after the biopsy. This is good news. It’s even better news because it means she doesn’t need the full 19 days of radiation. She will likely be fine with only six radiation treatments, spread over six weeks.
What a relief.
This reduces the chance that she’ll die from lack of sleep!
It should also be much less expensive.
Neurofibrosarcoma. Nerve sheath cancer.
Tricksey is about to start on 19 days of radiation treatments. Merry Christmas, T.
She’d prefer to just hide under the vet’s exam room bench.
If all goes well, it won’t give her a different cancer, kidney failure or general necropathy.
And, it turns out that there is an upper monetary limit that we’d put on saving T’s life. It’s shockingly high, but it exists. And it’s within a fraction of what this is going to cost. For me, that’s the most distressing part of this. The prognosis sounds reasonable aside from the aforementioned possible long-term side-effects. But knowing that we would be resigned to letting her die of this if the cost was 50% higher is heartbreaking.