My great friend, Tina, and I were attending this concert last night. There were plenty of accounts of the events.
From my perspective, I thought that a speaker or a section of lights had fallen onto the stage. There was a loud THUD, and I looked to Glen Hansard, who seemed stunned, but he hadn't been hit or hurt. Then I realized the thing that had fallen was actually a person, and thought that maybe it was a lighting technician who had fallen from above. However, Tina had seen the guy fall/jump the roof, which seemed to confirm that he wasn't part of the crew, and it all just became very surreal.
Today, I keep seeing flashes of last night, mostly in still images. The impact, the look on Glen's face, the woman leaving the venue with her hand over her mouth, the girl in sobs waiting for the deputy to take statements, the security guards, the confusion, the band waiting off-stage, Glen's folded hands in the seat next to me, the helpless looks on everyone's faces. Honestly, I don't even feel like they're my own memories. Very unreal.
Friday, August 20
Wednesday, July 28
Considering an adventure...
Jesse and I have been throwing around the idea of taking a cross-country road trip. This is mostly because Jesse has done it, and I haven't, and because he has such great memories of it, he wants me to do it, too. I'm not opposed to the idea, because I grew up "going for a ride" with my grandparents on weekends - driving is pretty much in my blood. I love it. Impromptu road trips are totally awesome.
However, the idea of an extended, planned, multi-state excursion has been really daunting to me. That's really the reason why we haven't gone on the trip yet. I can't wrap my brain around it. Who's car should we take? How many miles is it? Will we be comfortable for that length of time in that car? What should we stop and see? Isn't that an awful lot of vacation time? Do we go to natural wonders or roadside quirks? Both? Again, doesn't that take a long time? Where do we stay? How can we be sure we'll make it to the next hotel on that specific day? Oh, forget it.
Now that my wonderful friend and former neighbor, Chelsea, has moved out of state, I no longer have a built-in, trustworthy, animal-loving cat sitter nearby. We recently found out that our cat, Mimsy, may be more nervous/anxious than we once thought, and we're also treating her for crystals in her urine, and all this means that she needs daily attention and daily box cleaning, which is tough to accommodate while on vacation.
We tossed around some ideas for how to travel (in a car) with cats, but those visuals were pretty rough. I couldn't imagine keeping them in carriers the whole time, and even more than that, I couldn't figure out how to have a litter box AND luggage in the same space, with cats out and about, safely. Ugh.
At some point, Jesse came up with the idea of renting an RV for the cross-country trip, so we could take the cats with us. While I thought it was a great idea, we were digesting it very slowly (because renting an RV is not cheap, and the questions of how long the trip would be kept coming up). Last week, though, while I was looking for a hotel for a quick weekend trip for Jesse's upcoming birthday, a very odd idea hit me.
What if we just buy an RV?
That way, we can use it for the weekend trip AND the cross-country trip, and we'll probably get some good use out of it, given our cat situation.
So to skip to the good part: we're looking for a class C motorhome; it should be as short as possible while still having an always-out bed in the back (~25ft), low miles, not terribly old. Ugly is not a huge issue, but road readiness is. If you know of someone who's selling, please let us know. =)
I don't have any concrete experience with RVs, other than the fact that my grandparents were "full-timers" on their class A motorhome during their retirement, and drove it all over the country. Unfortunately, they've since passed away, and I didn't really ask any questions about RVing when they were alive, so this is all new to me (us). Luckily, library cards are still easy to get, so I've picked up several good books that assure me that RVing takes no special skills or training.
Anyway, as this idea (quickly!) developed, and in order to see if this is just a daydreamer's fancy or a true solution to our problem(s), we've decided to rent an RV for the birthday weekend trip. The plan is to pack up the cats and head out for an adventure, to see how we all like the travel style.
If it all works out and we love it, then in the future, you can look for us at the shuffleboard area of the KOA/Thousand Trails campgrounds (har, har). ;)
However, the idea of an extended, planned, multi-state excursion has been really daunting to me. That's really the reason why we haven't gone on the trip yet. I can't wrap my brain around it. Who's car should we take? How many miles is it? Will we be comfortable for that length of time in that car? What should we stop and see? Isn't that an awful lot of vacation time? Do we go to natural wonders or roadside quirks? Both? Again, doesn't that take a long time? Where do we stay? How can we be sure we'll make it to the next hotel on that specific day? Oh, forget it.
Now that my wonderful friend and former neighbor, Chelsea, has moved out of state, I no longer have a built-in, trustworthy, animal-loving cat sitter nearby. We recently found out that our cat, Mimsy, may be more nervous/anxious than we once thought, and we're also treating her for crystals in her urine, and all this means that she needs daily attention and daily box cleaning, which is tough to accommodate while on vacation.
We tossed around some ideas for how to travel (in a car) with cats, but those visuals were pretty rough. I couldn't imagine keeping them in carriers the whole time, and even more than that, I couldn't figure out how to have a litter box AND luggage in the same space, with cats out and about, safely. Ugh.
At some point, Jesse came up with the idea of renting an RV for the cross-country trip, so we could take the cats with us. While I thought it was a great idea, we were digesting it very slowly (because renting an RV is not cheap, and the questions of how long the trip would be kept coming up). Last week, though, while I was looking for a hotel for a quick weekend trip for Jesse's upcoming birthday, a very odd idea hit me.
What if we just buy an RV?
That way, we can use it for the weekend trip AND the cross-country trip, and we'll probably get some good use out of it, given our cat situation.
So to skip to the good part: we're looking for a class C motorhome; it should be as short as possible while still having an always-out bed in the back (~25ft), low miles, not terribly old. Ugly is not a huge issue, but road readiness is. If you know of someone who's selling, please let us know. =)
I don't have any concrete experience with RVs, other than the fact that my grandparents were "full-timers" on their class A motorhome during their retirement, and drove it all over the country. Unfortunately, they've since passed away, and I didn't really ask any questions about RVing when they were alive, so this is all new to me (us). Luckily, library cards are still easy to get, so I've picked up several good books that assure me that RVing takes no special skills or training.
Anyway, as this idea (quickly!) developed, and in order to see if this is just a daydreamer's fancy or a true solution to our problem(s), we've decided to rent an RV for the birthday weekend trip. The plan is to pack up the cats and head out for an adventure, to see how we all like the travel style.
If it all works out and we love it, then in the future, you can look for us at the shuffleboard area of the KOA/Thousand Trails campgrounds (har, har). ;)
Thursday, June 3
She's crafty
My husband will be the first to tell you that a major pet peeve of mine is craft stores. When I was little, I absolutely loved all of the possibilities of arts and crafts. However, when I reached a certain age, there was a strange threshold I crossed whereby all the "cool" crafts were either (a) too complicated for me, since I had no patience, (b) too dangerous for someone of my age or (c) too expensive for a kid without income. Lastly, my mom really loved to meander slowly through the aisles of craft stores, and I would get bored and want to leave, but I couldn't, and so I'd just get mad and grumpy.
Fast forward to 2009:
I organized a Bake Sale at my office in May to benefit Bake for Hope. We had eight bakers, and we raised more money than any other bake sale in Northern California.
In June, my mom passed down to me the art of canning. We preserved half a tree's worth of apricots (it was days of work!). We even used the same ladle that my maternal grandmother used to use for canning. Seriously domestic, and even a little empowering, knowing that I can preserve some of my own food.
Around the same time, I took a "Sewing Machine Basics" class and then pulled my paternal grandmother's sewing machine out of storage under the stairs. I braved a fabric store and a sewing machine repair shop (the machine needed new needles). I read the machine's manual. I sewed a drawstring bag for Jesse (not pictured). My first "big" project was a set of baby booties and mittens for a new arrival of one of Jesse's co-workers. (The dad loves soccer, and it was a girl.)
Frankly, the rest of the year was a blur. During that time, my mom and I (with lots of help from my husband, my dad, a couple of good contractors and one bad one) disassembled a house, then re-assembled it, using lots of scraping, texturing, painting, shining, sweeping, whining, scrubbing, salvaging, shopping, straining and thinking.
We started with images like this (there used to be a cooktop there). Honestly, this is the cutest one. Most of the others are ugh-ly.
We ended up with images like this (the cooktop can't really be seen, but it was put back right next to the oven, after we re-finished the cabinets and had granite countertops installed). And the house sold quickly.
The only breath of fresh air was in December, and that air was filled with the scent of iced cut-out sugar cookies, marshmallow fudge, lime sugar cookies, etc. Christmas baking at Tina's house was totally awesome, complete with a bottle of wine and a fancy hors d'oeuvres dinner. I would show you a picture, but I can't seem to find one! (Tina - do you still have pics?)
Also in December, Jesse, Tina and I crafted other, inedible Christmas things. We made ornaments out of clay and painted them with liquid gold leaf and liquid silver leaf (not pictured).
Tina and I made little snowmen with red scarves, for tying little bags closed, or attaching to candy canes.
I also tried to follow Martha Stewart's project instructions to decorate clothes pins with wrapping paper, for hanging up Christmas cards. I still need to finish those up this year...
I know that this only catches us up to the end of last year. I'll try to post about this year's activities before the calendar flips to 2011. ;)
Fast forward to 2009:
I organized a Bake Sale at my office in May to benefit Bake for Hope. We had eight bakers, and we raised more money than any other bake sale in Northern California.
In June, my mom passed down to me the art of canning. We preserved half a tree's worth of apricots (it was days of work!). We even used the same ladle that my maternal grandmother used to use for canning. Seriously domestic, and even a little empowering, knowing that I can preserve some of my own food.
Around the same time, I took a "Sewing Machine Basics" class and then pulled my paternal grandmother's sewing machine out of storage under the stairs. I braved a fabric store and a sewing machine repair shop (the machine needed new needles). I read the machine's manual. I sewed a drawstring bag for Jesse (not pictured). My first "big" project was a set of baby booties and mittens for a new arrival of one of Jesse's co-workers. (The dad loves soccer, and it was a girl.)Frankly, the rest of the year was a blur. During that time, my mom and I (with lots of help from my husband, my dad, a couple of good contractors and one bad one) disassembled a house, then re-assembled it, using lots of scraping, texturing, painting, shining, sweeping, whining, scrubbing, salvaging, shopping, straining and thinking.
We started with images like this (there used to be a cooktop there). Honestly, this is the cutest one. Most of the others are ugh-ly.
We ended up with images like this (the cooktop can't really be seen, but it was put back right next to the oven, after we re-finished the cabinets and had granite countertops installed). And the house sold quickly.
The only breath of fresh air was in December, and that air was filled with the scent of iced cut-out sugar cookies, marshmallow fudge, lime sugar cookies, etc. Christmas baking at Tina's house was totally awesome, complete with a bottle of wine and a fancy hors d'oeuvres dinner. I would show you a picture, but I can't seem to find one! (Tina - do you still have pics?)
Also in December, Jesse, Tina and I crafted other, inedible Christmas things. We made ornaments out of clay and painted them with liquid gold leaf and liquid silver leaf (not pictured).
Tina and I made little snowmen with red scarves, for tying little bags closed, or attaching to candy canes.
I also tried to follow Martha Stewart's project instructions to decorate clothes pins with wrapping paper, for hanging up Christmas cards. I still need to finish those up this year...I know that this only catches us up to the end of last year. I'll try to post about this year's activities before the calendar flips to 2011. ;)
Wednesday, March 3
Stinkface
So, my face stinks. In my never ending, yet fairly lazy, quest for less expensive/mainstream/chemical-laden skincare/household products, I recently purchased a bottle of Witch Hazel. I thought it would be yet another oft overlooked and yet completely genius perfect replacement for the chemical cosmetic toners I usually use. Unfortunately, even though Witch Hazel's extraordinary list of achievements and benefits is impressive, it loses MAJOR points in the scent category.
I'm big on smells, and I like things to smell good, even if that means using perfumes. Of course, I've had to compromise along the way, given the nature of my aforementioned quest, and many of the newer products in my house are virtually scentless. I'm more and more OK with that as time goes on. I used to think Jesse was nuts for buying unscented laundry detergent -- isn't clean laundry supposed to smell good, not just like hot cotton? Sheesh. Now I buy as many unscented things as I can (keep in mind this is a process).
Enter Witch Hazel. I'm thinking it'll be like hydrogen peroxide -- mostly unscented, but genius and endlessly useful. The marketing team did it's job -- the Witch Hazel sits on the bottom shelf in the health section of your local pharmacy or big box store, among the generic brown and white bottles of isopropyl alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. However, WH comes in a lovely clear bottle with a transparent, full-color label and a breezy font...this looks like good stuff! For $3? Sold. Usually, toner is $8 or more for a bottle half this size.
I get it home, I wash my face to prep for bed, and right about this time is when I start thinking that this stuff sounds too good to be true -- it's a natural astringent that doesn't strip natural oils from your skin. Why isn't this stuff more popular? Let me give it a sniff to rule out the smell as a cause for its downfall...
Nope, that's it. It's the smell. It has a damp smell, which I can only think to describe as "burning mildew." It's awful. I'm thinking that this is a BIG bottle of Witch Hazel... So what do I do? Why, rub it all over my face, of course!
I then immediately start running back and forth in the bathroom fanning my face, trying to get it to dry so maybe the smell will go away.
It does eventually dry, and I have to say...my skin feels really nice! Like high quality cosmetics nice, and all I did was cleanse and use Witch Hazel. I'm going to try to see if there's something I can add that will improve the smell (rosewater? Essential oil?), because it's so bad that I'm not even sure that the results are worth it.. Any ideas?
ETA: I couldn't keep up with the W.H. I had the most irritated skin after just three days or so, with tons of red spots on my forehead and cheeks. Terrible. My skin is far too sensitive.
I'm big on smells, and I like things to smell good, even if that means using perfumes. Of course, I've had to compromise along the way, given the nature of my aforementioned quest, and many of the newer products in my house are virtually scentless. I'm more and more OK with that as time goes on. I used to think Jesse was nuts for buying unscented laundry detergent -- isn't clean laundry supposed to smell good, not just like hot cotton? Sheesh. Now I buy as many unscented things as I can (keep in mind this is a process).
Enter Witch Hazel. I'm thinking it'll be like hydrogen peroxide -- mostly unscented, but genius and endlessly useful. The marketing team did it's job -- the Witch Hazel sits on the bottom shelf in the health section of your local pharmacy or big box store, among the generic brown and white bottles of isopropyl alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. However, WH comes in a lovely clear bottle with a transparent, full-color label and a breezy font...this looks like good stuff! For $3? Sold. Usually, toner is $8 or more for a bottle half this size.
I get it home, I wash my face to prep for bed, and right about this time is when I start thinking that this stuff sounds too good to be true -- it's a natural astringent that doesn't strip natural oils from your skin. Why isn't this stuff more popular? Let me give it a sniff to rule out the smell as a cause for its downfall...
Nope, that's it. It's the smell. It has a damp smell, which I can only think to describe as "burning mildew." It's awful. I'm thinking that this is a BIG bottle of Witch Hazel... So what do I do? Why, rub it all over my face, of course!
I then immediately start running back and forth in the bathroom fanning my face, trying to get it to dry so maybe the smell will go away.
It does eventually dry, and I have to say...my skin feels really nice! Like high quality cosmetics nice, and all I did was cleanse and use Witch Hazel. I'm going to try to see if there's something I can add that will improve the smell (rosewater? Essential oil?), because it's so bad that I'm not even sure that the results are worth it.. Any ideas?
ETA: I couldn't keep up with the W.H. I had the most irritated skin after just three days or so, with tons of red spots on my forehead and cheeks. Terrible. My skin is far too sensitive.
Friday, February 19
Someone's advertising on my banana
I feel very violated! Chiquita has started selling ad space on their bananas.
I'm paying for the banana, Chiquita. You shouldn't need to sell ads for something I'm already paying for. That's why HBO doesn't have commercials. My word, what is the world coming to.
If I had kids (and I don't, Chiquita, so don't worry, I'm sure your evil plot will still work), I would immediately pull all of the stickers off of the bananas I purchased, so that I didn't provide corporate ad space directly in my kids' lunchboxes. Either that, or I'd pay more for bananas that offer me the option of non-corporate-subsidized fruit. Sheesh!
I'm paying for the banana, Chiquita. You shouldn't need to sell ads for something I'm already paying for. That's why HBO doesn't have commercials. My word, what is the world coming to.
If I had kids (and I don't, Chiquita, so don't worry, I'm sure your evil plot will still work), I would immediately pull all of the stickers off of the bananas I purchased, so that I didn't provide corporate ad space directly in my kids' lunchboxes. Either that, or I'd pay more for bananas that offer me the option of non-corporate-subsidized fruit. Sheesh!
Friday, July 24
Silence
I'm having a hard time right now. I've been meaning to blog for quite a while. I've had a lot of developments in my life, mostly related to acquiring domestic skills. It has been, for the most part, a really great year for my personal life.
However, the thing that has finally made me break radio silence is our poor little kitty's illness. Honestly, my actual reaction to our current situation is that I want to be more silent than ever. I want to make it go away, pretend it isn't happening. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to be experiencing this. But I can't stand the thought of letting this pass by unrecorded, unacknowledged. I need to honor her and let people know that she didn't just disappear, that we have all struggled as a family through this time, and that it's a really big moment in our lives.
Pipper is really sick. She has cancer. It's terminal. We found out on July 6th, the day after we got home from the 4th of July weekend. When we got home on Sunday, her breathing sounded congested, which was weird and new. I went to work the next day, called the vet, and they encouraged me to bring her in so they could take a look. They suspected a respiratory infection. I rushed home, made it to the office by 11:45am, and they told me they wanted to take X-rays instead of just sending us home with antibiotics, as they would do with a younger cat.
I had to leave her at the office until 2pm, because they had to "let the machine warm up" and then they were on lunch break, then they would take the images and I could pick her up. When I got there at 2pm, I was sort of in a fog. I remember feeling like I knew something was wrong, and I even picked up a pamphlet in the lobby about a Pet Loss Support Group at the local Humane Society. Then again, I can sometimes be a little bit pessimistic, so I tried to shrug that off. Unfortunately, the feeling was right this time. The vet showed me the chest X-ray, and I could see the masses. Lung cancer, she said. And since we had previously told her that Pipper's head had been twitching sometimes, the vet said she suspected it was probably being caused by brain cancer.
Silence.
Sobbing.
Deep breath. "What do we do?"
She explained that she expected Pipper to have "maybe a month."
Silence.
How do you respond to that? I just cried and stared at the X-ray. I nodded. I tried not to lose it. I tried to be an adult, for whatever that's worth. I mentioned my husband, and how much he loves our little cat. She said that he was welcome to call her any time if he had any questions. We should watch her appetite, her mood, her breathing. She explained something about a blood test and that she would get a second opinion on the X-ray, but it didn't really register, since I could see those masses with my own eyes. She said there would be no pain, but that certain symptoms would cause stress, which we shouldn't put Pipper through, if we could avoid it.
Ok, thank you. Can I call if I think of anything else?
Yes, of course.
I cried in the exam room for a little while, and the staff tried to give me some space to be with our kitty for a few minutes. I decided I needed to deliver this news to Jesse in person, so I took Pipper home, made sure she seemed comfortable, then drove up to San Francisco at about 3:00pm. I called Jesse when I was around the block from his work. He met me outside. We cried. I tried to describe what the vet told me, but I had a hard time delivering the same message myself. We decided to go straight home. I gave Jesse the vet's phone number, and he called her on the way home. She apparently told him that Pipper had "two weeks to a month."
We had a bad week. She was sullen, exhausted, sleeping in a different room. She sounded extra "congested" if she got up and moved around (though she didn't do much of that). She didn't lift her head up if we walked into the room. We found ourselves frequently laying a hand gently on her to make sure she was still breathing.
We continued to work. Our friends were so supportive. I had prepared myself for a couple of 'off' remarks, but was so grateful that everyone seemed to understand. I recalled all of my friends who had lost pets. I kicked myself for anything I thought I said to them that might not have been appropriate. I wished I could've done more for all of them. I realized that you can't fully understand this situation without some prior experience, and that made me sad, too. I know that this will haunt me whenever a friend says they're going through something similar. It breaks my heart to think of that.
The following weekend was hard. Pipper had some kind of tremor on Saturday while Jesse was with her. The whole situation had become overwhelming -- we didn't know when we would "know," and we didn't know if she was experiencing stress. We had sort of lost perspective, since we hadn't seen her normal behavior in over a week. It was very lonely.
On Sunday afternoon, she sort of perked up. I don't exactly know what tipped us off at first, but she seemed a little more interested in the world around her. We could walk into the room, and she would look up at us. It was different somehow.
By Monday morning, she was hanging out with us on the bed like old times. She started to greet us when we walked into the room. She was proactively acknowledging us. I can't explain how happy and relieved I was. It was as if she was saying, "Here I am! Remember me?" And we did. We could finally see that she was still the same, loving, upbeat cat. She just got a little winded if she walked around too much. But once she was able to rest up, she was engaged and interested and cuddly. She started climbing up onto our chests. She started biting my hair and licking Jesse's head (some of her favorite things). She was on our bed all day (not in the other room). She was back, and we were so grateful. It was such a great week.
By this past Monday, I had come full circle, and I started to really internalize that, even though she was upbeat and perky again, it didn't mean she was getting better. It was just a really awesome period of time that would help us remember our little buddy as her happy, lovable self. I was filled with gratitude every time I saw her, and I tried to hold on to all of those happy moments and not take them for granted.
On Tuesday, Jesse noticed that her breathing had changed again. This time, it was really shallow and fast. It only happened when she exerted herself, but it was still really concerning. She also starting to do something that resembled coughing, except it was very weak, and it made her really uncomfortable. She would cough a little bit, then rapidly try to change positions and find another place to be. She was crouching down and looked a little bit panicked. As soon as the coughing stopped, she would try to lay down and relax. I could only think that the weakness and fear was caused by her reduced lung capacity. The masses must be growing, and she's suffering. We were so worried.
On Wednesday, it was clear that she was getting really tired again. I would see her asleep in the middle of the floor, which she never does. It was as if she got tired somewhere between point A and point B, so she would just lay down and rest. In the morning, she was not on the bed with us. Instead, she was on the rug next to the bed, curled up and looking fairly uncomfortable. We found her sleeping in the other room again on Wednesday night.
Yesterday morning, she seemed extremely uncomfortable. Not only was her breathing quick and shallow (while lying still), but she would curl up next to us and *immediately* lay her head down (on the side) and try to go to sleep. She just doesn't ever do that. If we're up with her on the bed, she's usually trying to get us to pet her, or biting us, or just sitting quietly with her head up and eyes open. We knew she wasn't feeling good at all. It hurt to look at her, because we felt like she was in pain, or at least really uncomfortable.
We talked and talked and talked about what we were seeing. We cried. We pet Pipper, hugged her, cried. She seemed to be unhappy when we touched her -- she would jolt her head to look at us, and she almost looked scared. A couple of times, when we touched her, she would quickly get up and scoot a few inches away, and lay back down. She was clearly telling us to leave her alone, she wasn't feeling good.
On Wednesday night, I thought it might be coming. On Thursday morning, I felt the tension in the room, as we talked about our observations. I finally said it: "Do you think it might be time?" He said yes, he did. We cried.
We decided that "tomorrow" (today) would be the right time. We talked to her.
We went to work, I called the vet. They were as reassuring as they could be, and I made an appointment. I hated being at work. I cried frequently, I locked myself in a conference room with my laptop and a box of kleenex. I've been wearing my glasses, because crying dries out my contacts, and I can't stop crying.
I got home Thursday evening, and rushed into the bedroom to find Pipper curled up on a rug next to the bed. She looked so sweetly up at me, and purred when I pet her. It broke my heart. I started to really question our decision. Jesse got home, we visited Pip again. I told him I wasn't sure. We petted her more, and out of nowhere, she started squirming and her breathing became really shallow again. She let her head fall to the floor, and we noticed that she had a new way of positioning herself. Her paws were always up under her chest, like she was trying to hold herself up and reduce the pressure on her body. It was just another sign. It was like she was telling us, "I want to be happy to see you, but I'm not happy about anything right now."
We talked for a long time. We talked about compassion, pain, indecision, fear, love, comfort. We talked about selflessness, and I said that I think I finally know what that means in this situation. We need to swallow our fear of making the wrong decision at the wrong time, and help our little buddy out of the discomfort her illness is causing her. It's not about us or our sadness. It's about what's right for her in this situation. She can't make the decision for herself, but she's trying to tell us what we need to do.
It's Friday morning, and our little buddy is hanging out in the other room, away from us. She's uncomfortable. If we approach her, she sometimes looks at us, sometimes doesn't. She sometimes purrs, sometimes tries to get away. She still pulls her little paws up under her chest. I watched her try to place her paw a different way, maybe to hold her head when she puts it down, I'm not sure. But every time she tried to move her paw, she would immediately pull it back under, like she couldn't find the right position. Jesse is torn, because she clearly wants to be left alone, but he wants to hug her for every second she has left with us.
So, this is our last day. Our appointment is at 3:00pm. There will be plenty more tears today, and an outpouring of love for our little Pip, as she spends her last few hours in our house. It has been such an awesome experience to have her living with us. I've had lots of pets, all through my life. Having only one pet has been a very intimate experience, and I'm so glad that Jesse has been able to experience Pip's unconditional love. Our little family of three has been so happy together for the past four years. We love you so much, Pipper.
However, the thing that has finally made me break radio silence is our poor little kitty's illness. Honestly, my actual reaction to our current situation is that I want to be more silent than ever. I want to make it go away, pretend it isn't happening. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to be experiencing this. But I can't stand the thought of letting this pass by unrecorded, unacknowledged. I need to honor her and let people know that she didn't just disappear, that we have all struggled as a family through this time, and that it's a really big moment in our lives.
Pipper is really sick. She has cancer. It's terminal. We found out on July 6th, the day after we got home from the 4th of July weekend. When we got home on Sunday, her breathing sounded congested, which was weird and new. I went to work the next day, called the vet, and they encouraged me to bring her in so they could take a look. They suspected a respiratory infection. I rushed home, made it to the office by 11:45am, and they told me they wanted to take X-rays instead of just sending us home with antibiotics, as they would do with a younger cat.
I had to leave her at the office until 2pm, because they had to "let the machine warm up" and then they were on lunch break, then they would take the images and I could pick her up. When I got there at 2pm, I was sort of in a fog. I remember feeling like I knew something was wrong, and I even picked up a pamphlet in the lobby about a Pet Loss Support Group at the local Humane Society. Then again, I can sometimes be a little bit pessimistic, so I tried to shrug that off. Unfortunately, the feeling was right this time. The vet showed me the chest X-ray, and I could see the masses. Lung cancer, she said. And since we had previously told her that Pipper's head had been twitching sometimes, the vet said she suspected it was probably being caused by brain cancer.
Silence.
Sobbing.
Deep breath. "What do we do?"
She explained that she expected Pipper to have "maybe a month."
Silence.
How do you respond to that? I just cried and stared at the X-ray. I nodded. I tried not to lose it. I tried to be an adult, for whatever that's worth. I mentioned my husband, and how much he loves our little cat. She said that he was welcome to call her any time if he had any questions. We should watch her appetite, her mood, her breathing. She explained something about a blood test and that she would get a second opinion on the X-ray, but it didn't really register, since I could see those masses with my own eyes. She said there would be no pain, but that certain symptoms would cause stress, which we shouldn't put Pipper through, if we could avoid it.
Ok, thank you. Can I call if I think of anything else?
Yes, of course.
I cried in the exam room for a little while, and the staff tried to give me some space to be with our kitty for a few minutes. I decided I needed to deliver this news to Jesse in person, so I took Pipper home, made sure she seemed comfortable, then drove up to San Francisco at about 3:00pm. I called Jesse when I was around the block from his work. He met me outside. We cried. I tried to describe what the vet told me, but I had a hard time delivering the same message myself. We decided to go straight home. I gave Jesse the vet's phone number, and he called her on the way home. She apparently told him that Pipper had "two weeks to a month."
We had a bad week. She was sullen, exhausted, sleeping in a different room. She sounded extra "congested" if she got up and moved around (though she didn't do much of that). She didn't lift her head up if we walked into the room. We found ourselves frequently laying a hand gently on her to make sure she was still breathing.
We continued to work. Our friends were so supportive. I had prepared myself for a couple of 'off' remarks, but was so grateful that everyone seemed to understand. I recalled all of my friends who had lost pets. I kicked myself for anything I thought I said to them that might not have been appropriate. I wished I could've done more for all of them. I realized that you can't fully understand this situation without some prior experience, and that made me sad, too. I know that this will haunt me whenever a friend says they're going through something similar. It breaks my heart to think of that.
The following weekend was hard. Pipper had some kind of tremor on Saturday while Jesse was with her. The whole situation had become overwhelming -- we didn't know when we would "know," and we didn't know if she was experiencing stress. We had sort of lost perspective, since we hadn't seen her normal behavior in over a week. It was very lonely.
On Sunday afternoon, she sort of perked up. I don't exactly know what tipped us off at first, but she seemed a little more interested in the world around her. We could walk into the room, and she would look up at us. It was different somehow.
By Monday morning, she was hanging out with us on the bed like old times. She started to greet us when we walked into the room. She was proactively acknowledging us. I can't explain how happy and relieved I was. It was as if she was saying, "Here I am! Remember me?" And we did. We could finally see that she was still the same, loving, upbeat cat. She just got a little winded if she walked around too much. But once she was able to rest up, she was engaged and interested and cuddly. She started climbing up onto our chests. She started biting my hair and licking Jesse's head (some of her favorite things). She was on our bed all day (not in the other room). She was back, and we were so grateful. It was such a great week.
By this past Monday, I had come full circle, and I started to really internalize that, even though she was upbeat and perky again, it didn't mean she was getting better. It was just a really awesome period of time that would help us remember our little buddy as her happy, lovable self. I was filled with gratitude every time I saw her, and I tried to hold on to all of those happy moments and not take them for granted.
On Tuesday, Jesse noticed that her breathing had changed again. This time, it was really shallow and fast. It only happened when she exerted herself, but it was still really concerning. She also starting to do something that resembled coughing, except it was very weak, and it made her really uncomfortable. She would cough a little bit, then rapidly try to change positions and find another place to be. She was crouching down and looked a little bit panicked. As soon as the coughing stopped, she would try to lay down and relax. I could only think that the weakness and fear was caused by her reduced lung capacity. The masses must be growing, and she's suffering. We were so worried.
On Wednesday, it was clear that she was getting really tired again. I would see her asleep in the middle of the floor, which she never does. It was as if she got tired somewhere between point A and point B, so she would just lay down and rest. In the morning, she was not on the bed with us. Instead, she was on the rug next to the bed, curled up and looking fairly uncomfortable. We found her sleeping in the other room again on Wednesday night.
Yesterday morning, she seemed extremely uncomfortable. Not only was her breathing quick and shallow (while lying still), but she would curl up next to us and *immediately* lay her head down (on the side) and try to go to sleep. She just doesn't ever do that. If we're up with her on the bed, she's usually trying to get us to pet her, or biting us, or just sitting quietly with her head up and eyes open. We knew she wasn't feeling good at all. It hurt to look at her, because we felt like she was in pain, or at least really uncomfortable.
We talked and talked and talked about what we were seeing. We cried. We pet Pipper, hugged her, cried. She seemed to be unhappy when we touched her -- she would jolt her head to look at us, and she almost looked scared. A couple of times, when we touched her, she would quickly get up and scoot a few inches away, and lay back down. She was clearly telling us to leave her alone, she wasn't feeling good.
On Wednesday night, I thought it might be coming. On Thursday morning, I felt the tension in the room, as we talked about our observations. I finally said it: "Do you think it might be time?" He said yes, he did. We cried.
We decided that "tomorrow" (today) would be the right time. We talked to her.
We went to work, I called the vet. They were as reassuring as they could be, and I made an appointment. I hated being at work. I cried frequently, I locked myself in a conference room with my laptop and a box of kleenex. I've been wearing my glasses, because crying dries out my contacts, and I can't stop crying.
I got home Thursday evening, and rushed into the bedroom to find Pipper curled up on a rug next to the bed. She looked so sweetly up at me, and purred when I pet her. It broke my heart. I started to really question our decision. Jesse got home, we visited Pip again. I told him I wasn't sure. We petted her more, and out of nowhere, she started squirming and her breathing became really shallow again. She let her head fall to the floor, and we noticed that she had a new way of positioning herself. Her paws were always up under her chest, like she was trying to hold herself up and reduce the pressure on her body. It was just another sign. It was like she was telling us, "I want to be happy to see you, but I'm not happy about anything right now."
We talked for a long time. We talked about compassion, pain, indecision, fear, love, comfort. We talked about selflessness, and I said that I think I finally know what that means in this situation. We need to swallow our fear of making the wrong decision at the wrong time, and help our little buddy out of the discomfort her illness is causing her. It's not about us or our sadness. It's about what's right for her in this situation. She can't make the decision for herself, but she's trying to tell us what we need to do.
It's Friday morning, and our little buddy is hanging out in the other room, away from us. She's uncomfortable. If we approach her, she sometimes looks at us, sometimes doesn't. She sometimes purrs, sometimes tries to get away. She still pulls her little paws up under her chest. I watched her try to place her paw a different way, maybe to hold her head when she puts it down, I'm not sure. But every time she tried to move her paw, she would immediately pull it back under, like she couldn't find the right position. Jesse is torn, because she clearly wants to be left alone, but he wants to hug her for every second she has left with us.
So, this is our last day. Our appointment is at 3:00pm. There will be plenty more tears today, and an outpouring of love for our little Pip, as she spends her last few hours in our house. It has been such an awesome experience to have her living with us. I've had lots of pets, all through my life. Having only one pet has been a very intimate experience, and I'm so glad that Jesse has been able to experience Pip's unconditional love. Our little family of three has been so happy together for the past four years. We love you so much, Pipper.
Friday, February 20
What have *you* been up to?
For those of you who read my blog, but who I don't talk to on a regular basis, I'm sorry that I'm a bum. =) I have been up to stuff, but I haven't said much about it.
Since my last post on January 7th, I...
...have traveled to Pennsylvania and Washington, D.C.
...magically acquired a ticket to the Swearing-in Ceremony for President Barack Obama. (w00t, Ry!)
...attended said Swearing-in Ceremony.
...told my realtor and mortgage broker to go away and leave us alone.
...became an iPhone user.
...celebrated my 2-year wedding anniversary.
...took a weekend road trip to Oregon.
Clearly, I've have a great 6 weeks or so, overall. The day after the Inauguration, I sat down and wrote an extremely long blog post (and saved it)... but for as long as it was, it seemed like there was a lot more detail that I was missing (probably because I was still exhausted). So I'll finish that and post it at some point, hopefully soon.
As a New Years Resolution, I think our mortgage broker and realtor decided to flip through their Rolodex and call everyone they once knew, to see if they were ready to be convinced to buy. We told them, in no uncertain terms, "No, please leave us alone."
(flash - next story!) Jesse and I celebrated our 2-year wedding anniversary at the end of January. Two years is the 'cotton' anniversary, so we did really think about how to incorporate cotton somehow. I tried to convince him that the majority of jewelry is made of cotton, as well as stainless steel ("cotton") pots and pans, and iPhones... So, when it came down to gift-opening, I reached into the small gift bag and what did my fingers touch? Shoot, it was *real* cotton. Only a tiny bit disappointed, I pulled it out of the bag, and unfolded what seemed like a black t-shirt. OK, it *was* a black t-shirt... that had iPhone buttons screen-printed on it! w00t! I dragged him off to the AT&T store right then and there, and now I'm a proud iPhone user! =) And, folks, if I'm an iPhone user, then these things have really taken off. I'm not an Apple fangirl, and I don't approve of spending the additional $30/month for a data plan... and *I* think it's totally worth it. I love it! Happy Anniversary, Bug! Thank you for my cotton iPhone! =)
Also for our anniversary, we had talked about going away somewhere for a weekend. We didn't need to go far... just a quick trip to mark the occasion. Jess suggested Oregon while we were doing dishes one night. It was a little further than I was thinking of driving, but he liked the idea of driving north on I-5 and spending a weekend in Ashland. Neither of us had ever been, but we both like theater, and Ashland is famous for its Oregon Shakespeare Festival.
Ashland. Is. Adorable.
We absolutely loved it there, and we will definitely go back sometime. We saw a production of "Death and the King's Horseman," which is a contemporary play by Nigerian playwright Wole Soyinka, who has been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. It was an absolutely fascinating play, and I'm really glad that we had the chance to see it. The cast, and in particular the lead and the actress who played his wife, were so completely committed to their roles. Apparently, the play is based on actual events, when the Yoruba of Nigeria were under British Colonial rule. It was a very eye-opening depiction of the juxtaposition of Western values and tribal rituals and beliefs. Admittedly, Jess and I were mostly lost at the beginning of the play, because the language Soyinka used was so rich with metaphor. And the metaphors that were used compared life experiences to things Westerners aren't all that familiar with, like plants and animals that are indigenous to Africa, so it was hard to keep up. The language barrier created awkward silences when the actors would laugh at a joke Soyinka had written in that audience hadn't quite picked up on. All's well, though, because by the end of the first act, I understood the direction things were going in, and it only got better and better from there.
Jess and I both had the same impression when the play was over -- "wow, that was so Shakespearian." Of course, this playwright has a very different tone, different subject matter, and different overall style, but still... the language was rich, intense, and full of inuendo. We highly recommend it! But consider yourself warned about those metaphors. =) We thought we would've been able to pick it all up more quickly if we'd known what to expect.
And last, but not least by any means, downtown Ashland was SO charming! We went to dinner at the Brewery, we shopped in their great Comic Book store (they had awesome journals and non-comic books, too), and we went to a local candy store that had to-die-for caramel apples! We picked the "Toffee Almond Caramel Apple," which was a regular caramel apple, rolled in crushed toffee almonds. What more could a person ask for? They sliced it, we shared it... and then went back on our way out of town and got two for the road. Man, I wish we could get those here! But it looks like you can't even order them!!
That's all for now. =) I will try to post the Inauguration summary soon...!
Since my last post on January 7th, I...
...have traveled to Pennsylvania and Washington, D.C.
...magically acquired a ticket to the Swearing-in Ceremony for President Barack Obama. (w00t, Ry!)
...attended said Swearing-in Ceremony.
...told my realtor and mortgage broker to go away and leave us alone.
...became an iPhone user.
...celebrated my 2-year wedding anniversary.
...took a weekend road trip to Oregon.
Clearly, I've have a great 6 weeks or so, overall. The day after the Inauguration, I sat down and wrote an extremely long blog post (and saved it)... but for as long as it was, it seemed like there was a lot more detail that I was missing (probably because I was still exhausted). So I'll finish that and post it at some point, hopefully soon.
As a New Years Resolution, I think our mortgage broker and realtor decided to flip through their Rolodex and call everyone they once knew, to see if they were ready to be convinced to buy. We told them, in no uncertain terms, "No, please leave us alone."
(flash - next story!) Jesse and I celebrated our 2-year wedding anniversary at the end of January. Two years is the 'cotton' anniversary, so we did really think about how to incorporate cotton somehow. I tried to convince him that the majority of jewelry is made of cotton, as well as stainless steel ("cotton") pots and pans, and iPhones... So, when it came down to gift-opening, I reached into the small gift bag and what did my fingers touch? Shoot, it was *real* cotton. Only a tiny bit disappointed, I pulled it out of the bag, and unfolded what seemed like a black t-shirt. OK, it *was* a black t-shirt... that had iPhone buttons screen-printed on it! w00t! I dragged him off to the AT&T store right then and there, and now I'm a proud iPhone user! =) And, folks, if I'm an iPhone user, then these things have really taken off. I'm not an Apple fangirl, and I don't approve of spending the additional $30/month for a data plan... and *I* think it's totally worth it. I love it! Happy Anniversary, Bug! Thank you for my cotton iPhone! =)
Also for our anniversary, we had talked about going away somewhere for a weekend. We didn't need to go far... just a quick trip to mark the occasion. Jess suggested Oregon while we were doing dishes one night. It was a little further than I was thinking of driving, but he liked the idea of driving north on I-5 and spending a weekend in Ashland. Neither of us had ever been, but we both like theater, and Ashland is famous for its Oregon Shakespeare Festival.
Ashland. Is. Adorable.
We absolutely loved it there, and we will definitely go back sometime. We saw a production of "Death and the King's Horseman," which is a contemporary play by Nigerian playwright Wole Soyinka, who has been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. It was an absolutely fascinating play, and I'm really glad that we had the chance to see it. The cast, and in particular the lead and the actress who played his wife, were so completely committed to their roles. Apparently, the play is based on actual events, when the Yoruba of Nigeria were under British Colonial rule. It was a very eye-opening depiction of the juxtaposition of Western values and tribal rituals and beliefs. Admittedly, Jess and I were mostly lost at the beginning of the play, because the language Soyinka used was so rich with metaphor. And the metaphors that were used compared life experiences to things Westerners aren't all that familiar with, like plants and animals that are indigenous to Africa, so it was hard to keep up. The language barrier created awkward silences when the actors would laugh at a joke Soyinka had written in that audience hadn't quite picked up on. All's well, though, because by the end of the first act, I understood the direction things were going in, and it only got better and better from there.
Jess and I both had the same impression when the play was over -- "wow, that was so Shakespearian." Of course, this playwright has a very different tone, different subject matter, and different overall style, but still... the language was rich, intense, and full of inuendo. We highly recommend it! But consider yourself warned about those metaphors. =) We thought we would've been able to pick it all up more quickly if we'd known what to expect.
And last, but not least by any means, downtown Ashland was SO charming! We went to dinner at the Brewery, we shopped in their great Comic Book store (they had awesome journals and non-comic books, too), and we went to a local candy store that had to-die-for caramel apples! We picked the "Toffee Almond Caramel Apple," which was a regular caramel apple, rolled in crushed toffee almonds. What more could a person ask for? They sliced it, we shared it... and then went back on our way out of town and got two for the road. Man, I wish we could get those here! But it looks like you can't even order them!!
That's all for now. =) I will try to post the Inauguration summary soon...!
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