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Happy fall, can you tell me how to post an update to the thread?
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ADVICE? Terminal Cancer Cat w/ Hyperthyroidism and Recent Amputation
- Thread starter thedjlil
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Hi there. I wish I had better news but she passed July 19th in my arms in the vets parking lot. I'm still trying to make sense of it. The oncologist was not helpful in any way but I had kept the second and original oncologist appointment that was closer but couldn't see her for 6 weeks. She didn't make it to the appointment. We brought her to the one on July 11th because we were told she needed to see someone ASAP and they could see her much sooner than 6 weeks.Hi again- I will add an update on Sox at the end of the thread, but how is your baby?
I'll put it to you this way. They didn't test her - nothing. It was 10 minutes of humming and hahing.. They wrote on her chart a weight - they never weight her. They put on her chart that her lungs were clear but they never took a stethoscope out to check. I received more help here then I did anywhere else.
Maybe she thought she was advancing so fast there was no hope - I'll never know though. Palliative care to me doesn't mean writing someone off and that's what it felt like everyone did. I haven't written about her in the rainbow thread yet. Though I will.
How is Sox?? I'm really hoping for a better outcome for him.
Post an update to what thread?
Hi
thedjlil
if you are looking to post an update for Sox. Just reply to the thread here. :-)
thedjlil
if you are looking to post an update for Sox. Just reply to the thread here. :-)- Thread Starter Thread Starter
- #25
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Feral Hearts, I am SO SO very SORRY! I cannot IMAGINE what you have gone through. I am, and have been since I read your update, honestly speechless. It was never going to be a pleasant experience. I hope you warn anyone thinking of having that vet near their furbabies.
Unfortunately no, not good news. (Sorry for the length.)
In all the stress, and no small amount of depression, I honestly completely forgot about this thread-I'm so sorry.
Everything pretty much went along the same as my last update on him on here, except for the little pea shaped bumps popping up in various places. You know how it is: there's only one for quite a while and then suddenly there's two and then it just snowballs from there. Still, we just did our best to give him the best quality of life everyday. My own day to day life revolved around him. I had no idea how long he would be with us but I knew it would not be many months. So we tried to be content.
Then, on the morning of August 2nd, he seemed a little off. He just wanted to lay on my sweater and as the day went on he just became more lethargic and then disoriented. By late that afternoon, his pulse, which I understand should be around 30 BPM, was actually closer to 90. By bedtime that night, we all heartbreakingly accepted that it was time. I had already scheduled an appointment for the next day, just in case, at my husband's urging. I think I screamed my prayers that night, that we wouldn't need that appointment.
I stayed up with him all night and iust laid with him and talked to him and the next day I kept my 17 yr old daughter home from school; we never left his side but took turns for food and bathroom, and looked fervently for signs that we were wrong. And a couple of times I even got my hopes up, because he seemed alert for 15 to 30 seconds, but then a minute or two later he would be worse off than he was before. God this is hard to write. It seemed to work out that whenever I or my daughter would think that we saw something promising, it would be the other one that would have to remind us that we were wishful thinking.
At a quarter to 5 on the afternoon of August 3rd, we made that horrifyingly short drive; by this time he was limp in my arms. His respiration was extremely fast and we couldn't deny that he was suffering. But even on the way there I was praying fervently that the vet would come back out and say " oh it's only so-and-so, we gave him a shot and he should be fine in a few hours!"
When we arrived, the vet personally came out to the thankfully almost empty lobby and picked him up from our arms and took him back to do a scan.
It took less than 5 minutes, and Dr Wright came back to get us. I gave him a hopeful questioning glance and he just shook his head. He showed us to a different room than usual and immediately pointed to the monitor. Our poor babies x-ray was riddled with little white spots but what Dr. Wright said next honestly took my breath away. "We knew from his last scan on Thursday that he had new growths, but he now has tumors in almost every internal organ in his body. They're in his chest, his stomach, his intestines, his bowels, and now his lungs, which is why he is how he is right now....It's time."
From somewhere out of time and reality, I heard my husband say sadly " we know."
Aggy, asked if she could hold him. Dr. Wright said of course and carefully helped her pick him up. While she sat in a chair next to the table and held him for the hundredth time like the baby he was to her, he let out his first sound in 2 days: his own regular and customary loud & long Meow! See, she had firmly decided back in May that he was HER son, (as she is SO sure she will never date a stinky boy (or girl
), live everyday with one person whose opinions she will have to hear, or have "stinky, screaming" children, HE was HER BABY BOY.) She adopted him as her very own (except litterbox duty ofc
) and everyday when she got home it was "how/where is my son?" He slept on her lap as she did homework on her computer. He laid in the crook of her legs when she watched TV or played on her phone. At night, he still slept with me so she COULD sleep, but he became hers in every other way. When he meowed we all looked at each other surprised and laughed and...for a way-too-short moment, the impending nightmare was forgotten. We (and Doc) just talked about his extraordinary vocal abilities. (We would say later that that last outspoken meow was his statement of permission, wish (and forgiveness
) for us to let his suffering end.)
Of course she (and I) had hoped we could continue to hold him as he crossed the rainbow bridge, but no.
The next few minutes were a million times shorter than I wanted. Dr. Wright explained what would happen, which we expected-but he also warned that Baby Boy's current state and his thyroid issues could cause some short but unpleasant and frightful-to-see side effects when he was sedated, and therefore, there would be no pause between sedation and that next dreaded awful blue horror.
I swear to yall- I barely had time to take a step closer-and he was gone. Just like that.
I had brought my own stethoscope from my medical assistant days and despite everyone looking at me like I was crazy I had to hear from myself.... I've never heard a silence so loud.
I barely remember anything from them until we arrived at my in-laws where our other most beloved furbaby and their own 3 are laid to rest in a beautiful special spot under the shade of their Leland Cypress which also held my daughter's childhood treehouse.
I do remember- and I am so grateful now that we took the time-preparing him while the guys prepared a special place FOR him. We cleaned him and brushed his dull grey coat and then we gingerly placed his beautiful earthly body with his favorite things.
I don't remember a lot about the next few days. But I do remember that life just wouldn't stop for a moment- just to get my bearings. I still feel like it really hasn't, especially with the hurricane (Idalia) bringing down that same Cypress along with my daughters treasured treehouse, and then our 105 lb 4 year old, Jude, a Collie Shepherd mix, tearing his ACL a couple weeks later. (getting ready to drive to Tallahassee today for his 2 week post op.)
But in the last week or so, I can finally speak and write about him and sometimes walk through my house without seeing him in every corner and special place that he loved. And 2 days ago for the first time, I found myself actually feeling relief that Sox's suffering had ended, and thankful that he had, albeit for an all-too-short 6 years, lived the life cats dream of. He was his own master; he came and went as he pleased, yet never went without food or shelter, and never was abandoned by (most of) those of us he ruled over on Waterberry. I am proud to be one of them.
Unfortunately no, not good news. (Sorry for the length.)
In all the stress, and no small amount of depression, I honestly completely forgot about this thread-I'm so sorry.
Everything pretty much went along the same as my last update on him on here, except for the little pea shaped bumps popping up in various places. You know how it is: there's only one for quite a while and then suddenly there's two and then it just snowballs from there. Still, we just did our best to give him the best quality of life everyday. My own day to day life revolved around him. I had no idea how long he would be with us but I knew it would not be many months. So we tried to be content.
Then, on the morning of August 2nd, he seemed a little off. He just wanted to lay on my sweater and as the day went on he just became more lethargic and then disoriented. By late that afternoon, his pulse, which I understand should be around 30 BPM, was actually closer to 90. By bedtime that night, we all heartbreakingly accepted that it was time. I had already scheduled an appointment for the next day, just in case, at my husband's urging. I think I screamed my prayers that night, that we wouldn't need that appointment.
I stayed up with him all night and iust laid with him and talked to him and the next day I kept my 17 yr old daughter home from school; we never left his side but took turns for food and bathroom, and looked fervently for signs that we were wrong. And a couple of times I even got my hopes up, because he seemed alert for 15 to 30 seconds, but then a minute or two later he would be worse off than he was before. God this is hard to write. It seemed to work out that whenever I or my daughter would think that we saw something promising, it would be the other one that would have to remind us that we were wishful thinking.
At a quarter to 5 on the afternoon of August 3rd, we made that horrifyingly short drive; by this time he was limp in my arms. His respiration was extremely fast and we couldn't deny that he was suffering. But even on the way there I was praying fervently that the vet would come back out and say " oh it's only so-and-so, we gave him a shot and he should be fine in a few hours!"
When we arrived, the vet personally came out to the thankfully almost empty lobby and picked him up from our arms and took him back to do a scan.
It took less than 5 minutes, and Dr Wright came back to get us. I gave him a hopeful questioning glance and he just shook his head. He showed us to a different room than usual and immediately pointed to the monitor. Our poor babies x-ray was riddled with little white spots but what Dr. Wright said next honestly took my breath away. "We knew from his last scan on Thursday that he had new growths, but he now has tumors in almost every internal organ in his body. They're in his chest, his stomach, his intestines, his bowels, and now his lungs, which is why he is how he is right now....It's time."
From somewhere out of time and reality, I heard my husband say sadly " we know."
Aggy, asked if she could hold him. Dr. Wright said of course and carefully helped her pick him up. While she sat in a chair next to the table and held him for the hundredth time like the baby he was to her, he let out his first sound in 2 days: his own regular and customary loud & long Meow! See, she had firmly decided back in May that he was HER son, (as she is SO sure she will never date a stinky boy (or girl
), live everyday with one person whose opinions she will have to hear, or have "stinky, screaming" children, HE was HER BABY BOY.) She adopted him as her very own (except litterbox duty ofc) and everyday when she got home it was "how/where is my son?" He slept on her lap as she did homework on her computer. He laid in the crook of her legs when she watched TV or played on her phone. At night, he still slept with me so she COULD sleep, but he became hers in every other way. When he meowed we all looked at each other surprised and laughed and...for a way-too-short moment, the impending nightmare was forgotten. We (and Doc) just talked about his extraordinary vocal abilities. (We would say later that that last outspoken meow was his statement of permission, wish (and forgiveness) for us to let his suffering end.)Of course she (and I) had hoped we could continue to hold him as he crossed the rainbow bridge, but no.
The next few minutes were a million times shorter than I wanted. Dr. Wright explained what would happen, which we expected-but he also warned that Baby Boy's current state and his thyroid issues could cause some short but unpleasant and frightful-to-see side effects when he was sedated, and therefore, there would be no pause between sedation and that next dreaded awful blue horror.
I swear to yall- I barely had time to take a step closer-and he was gone. Just like that.
I had brought my own stethoscope from my medical assistant days and despite everyone looking at me like I was crazy I had to hear from myself.... I've never heard a silence so loud.
I barely remember anything from them until we arrived at my in-laws where our other most beloved furbaby and their own 3 are laid to rest in a beautiful special spot under the shade of their Leland Cypress which also held my daughter's childhood treehouse.
I do remember- and I am so grateful now that we took the time-preparing him while the guys prepared a special place FOR him. We cleaned him and brushed his dull grey coat and then we gingerly placed his beautiful earthly body with his favorite things.
I don't remember a lot about the next few days. But I do remember that life just wouldn't stop for a moment- just to get my bearings. I still feel like it really hasn't, especially with the hurricane (Idalia) bringing down that same Cypress along with my daughters treasured treehouse, and then our 105 lb 4 year old, Jude, a Collie Shepherd mix, tearing his ACL a couple weeks later. (getting ready to drive to Tallahassee today for his 2 week post op.)
But in the last week or so, I can finally speak and write about him and sometimes walk through my house without seeing him in every corner and special place that he loved. And 2 days ago for the first time, I found myself actually feeling relief that Sox's suffering had ended, and thankful that he had, albeit for an all-too-short 6 years, lived the life cats dream of. He was his own master; he came and went as he pleased, yet never went without food or shelter, and never was abandoned by (most of) those of us he ruled over on Waterberry. I am proud to be one of them.
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Thank you. I'm still not over it and I may never fully get past it. Time helps a bit.
I let her Vet know and tell anyone I know where not to go. I mean she even knew she wasn't eating and I fasted her for 12 hours plus another 2 hour drive home. At the very least she could have addressed that or given her fluids and nutrients before we began our travel home. Had I been thinking at the time I would have insisted but I wasn't. Shock makes the brian fry.
Something you wrote below was very helpful to me so I am thanking you in advance as it was something that plagued me a lot. (I'll point it out below)
HUGS
Biggest, biggest hugs to you. I am so, so sorry. I was really hoping for a better outcome for you and Sox.
Please don't apologize for the length. It's good to get these things out.
I understand all to well the stress and depression along with the hope in your heart. It's such a helpless feeling and you sound like me - a doer - we don't do helpless well. We do action.
This is where I want to say thank you for taking the time to write about it. This happened to Mia and it plagued me to no end as no one could/would tell me anything about it. If it was normal. What it meant for her. etc.
Within a week after her FNA these little pinhead lumps started popping up everywhere. Within a week .... well my last count was 11. They grew in size for another 4-5 days to double the size. (From tiny pinheads to peas) and then stopped growing. Shortly after, just about a week -she stopped eating and it all went downhill from there.
I thought I had done something wrong. Reading this - it sound like this is something that happens.
Her lump started in her leg as well. Big one though. Really big.
-------
You did such a wonderful thing for Sox. I sympathize so much which what you've said. The whole screaming your prayers and the Vet's going to come back and say " oh it's only so-and-so, we gave him a shot and he should be fine in a few hours!" It's amazing how much hope we can carry!
I understand how hard that was to write all that out - but it's so good that you did. Well done for that and a heartfelt thanks. If someone else is going though similar it can help them prepare and make better sense of things.
Reading the rest of it - you've had such an eventful bit here. I really hope things calm for you soon. I think you've had enough upheaval.
I am sending the best vibes that all is good at Jude's check up. *fingers and toes crossed*
I know I said this before but I am so sorry about Sox. You did amazing with him though and I'm very certain he knew how much he was wanted and loved. You gave him everything he could have wanted... and more.
XOXOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXO
I am so sorry for your loss of Sox. While heartbreaking, the story that you wrote about his passing is also filled with beauty and love. Your vet sounds like an exceptionally sensitive person who was there for you and your family as much as possible, even to doing the last scan. With all that you did for Sox, you were able to help him live happily and comfortably for as long as was possible given the conditions he was facing. You will always be able to know that you did everything that was humanly possible to treat him.
No cat could ask for anything more than this life that you gave him.
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Sorry, I am definitely new to this and apparently it looks like I started a new thread? But the subject line refers to the old original thread.
I'm so sorry for your loss. 
Once again, I am so sorry for your loss of Sox. When a cat passes on, we lock the thread out of respect. If you would like to write a tribute to Sox and his entire life with you, you are welcome to do so in our Crossing the Bridge forum.
Crossing the Bridge
Crossing the Bridge
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