Bitch Slapped

Ohh it feels good to be staring at this blank blog post page again! It has been too long since my last post; it's odd, when I'm writing I'm bitching about how hard it is, and when I'm not, I'm wishing I was (of course I'm still bitching about how hard it is).

What is it about life that likes to periodically slap you on the ass (and not in a good way) just to make sure you still know who's boss?? I don't know, but this past week has been one of those ass slaps. It's been the invasion of the "Ists". First it was the Gynecologist and the get to know your choochie session, then it was the Dentist. I haven't been to one of those "Ists" in over 9 years; I'm here to tell you there was an obscene amount of scraping, and poking, and x-rays, and 6 cavities, and, and and. Oh, and did I mention my appointment was at 7:40 in the morning! WTF? Although I suppose the sleep deprived haze could be considered anesthesia.

The icing on the cake was the Veterinarian..uhh ist. My city boasts a renowned school of veterinarian medicine, but conversely nary a single vet worth their salt. I'm not joking, it's pathetic. I have Siamese cat with chronic gingivitis, and after over $700 bucks in vet visits, second opinions, tests and more tests, the best advice I got around here was to take her to the vet school and have ALL HER TEETH PULLED to the tune of 1600 smackers. No shit, that's what the final verdict was.

Luckily She who Tap Dances knows of a vet that has been taking care of her family's animals for over 20 years. Last year we brought Bella to him,he put her on anti-inflammatory meds and antibiotics to control the issue. But more to the point, he took care of months of worry. Until Tuesday.

Bella had been showing signs that her mouth was bothering her, and since Ms. B had a new set of kitty testicles to snip, we thought we would load up the Toyota with 4 cats in three carriers, and head down to Doc's. Did I mention he's 2 1/2 hours away? Well worth the trip, but the its always an epic adventure. This trip was no exception. Ohh yess, one of the 4 cats took a massive "holy crap I'm in a car crap". Now I'm not sure if it was the gawd awful smell or the ungodly hour (we left the house at 6:45am), but the combination spawned a massive attack of the giggles, and a creative brain storm that coined the new terms "Fear Crap","The Crap Fear River", and "The Tudball Massacree". Okay, it was funnier at the time. I swear. Shut up!

I honestly thought that once Doc took a look at Bella he would maybe have to clean her teeth, maybe even extract one, and we would continue on as before. That was not to be. When we got back from lunch to pick up the herd he was shaking his head. My heart sank. It turns out Bella has cancer. Squamous Cell Carcinoma to be more to the point. I stood in that exam room as explained how he burned the tumor off her gums with some sort of laser and cauterized the hell out of it. I managed not to cry as he told me he got it all and he's not willing to give up yet, but that I had to understand that this was an aggressive cancer, it would eventually return, and it was terminal.

So I loaded my extremely doped up cat back into the car and we headed home a tad more sober than we were on the way there, and our conversations took a darker turn. The rest of the night I nursed my little "bean" back to consciousness, and leaked tears all over her fur.

I'm feeling more philosophical about things now. The chronic gingivitis indicated a suppressed immune system, and I knew that she was never going to be an old cat, but this cancer thing is a little more immediate than the gingivitis. I'm optimistic though, maybe even overly so, she's young, otherwise healthy, and a serious spit fire. She was wobbling around the house Tuesday night, fighting off the drugs and insisting on eating her evening meal. So maybe she can fight this too. I'm hopeful, anyway.

I know, it's silly to get this wrapped up in a pet, but I'm one of those people who do just that. I can't help it, and I'm not really sure I'd want to change it. There is something very fulfilling and soul soothing to care for an animal, and be the recipient of their particular brand of devotion and unconditional love. It's hard when you lose a pet; it's like, in some small way, like losing a family member, and sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. But then, when I'm having a really bad day, one of them will curl up next to me on the couch, squint up at me and purr, and I can't imagine not having them around.

So, the invasion of the "Ists" is over for now, so I can resume writing my piffle,(I know you've all missed it. You know you have. Shut up!) and catch up with all my favorite bloggin' babes who I've missed this week more than I can express.