Category Archives: Cancer

Busy Cat Lady and Crazy Cat

Posted on by
7

The past few weeks have been busy!  Finally, my life doesn’t just consist of reading, daily naps, bird watching in the yard and playing toss the pom pom with Samantha.

My post-cancer healing journey is picking up pace here, and although I’m still pacing myself by occasionally napping and know when to say no, I’m also being productive doing things I love.

The Blue Bell Foundation for Cats is having its seventh annual Cat’s Meow Champagne Brunch Fundraiser on Sunday, September 26th.  Over the past several years I’ve coordinated that event, but that duty was passed on to Blue Bell’s new assistant director this year.

Blue Bell residents Angelo (RIP) and Cody

I’m still a Cat’s Meow planning team member and have been having a blast working on promotional efforts and being the venue liaison.

Cat Lady with Ed Steinfeld, morning host on Laguna’s KX FM radio after my interview about Blue Bell, Cat’s Meow event and related topics

I named our family cat Beth after the same name of a song by 70s rock band Kiss. Does my t-shirt look familiar?

I dusted off my children’s book manuscript and am working on final edits with my editor, Lynette Brasfield, which has been a thrill.  I love it when the magic of words and ideas come together on paper and tell a story. After a gazillion versions, several critiques and frustrations over the last eleven years, the story, which includes protagonists Topper and Lexington (two of my kitty angels), is coming together. I don’t want to leave my story in the hands of chance as far as if it gets picked up by a publisher, so I’m going the self-publishing route.  Besides sidestepping the luck of the slush pile draw, the learning and creative process of what goes into making a book is just the challenge I need to start my new life chapter.

Children’s book muses, Topper and Lexington

I have not yet been able to enjoy evenings of live music at my favorite venue in town, The Cliff, as I’m pretty wiped out by dinnertime, but I did manage to get to my other happy place, the Sawdust Festival.  My energy levels picked up just in time for two afternoon visits to the longstanding beloved summer art show in Laguna Beach during its last week for the season.  I’m certain that being in the presence of artists and their works, live music, and the rustic ambience of Laguna Canyon, an alternate universe radiating joy and love, has aided in my healing.

Listening to classic rock at Sawdust

Visiting with artist Michelle S. Burt at Sawdust

Meanwhile, back at the cat cottage, Samantha has become more at peace with her new home and new cat mama, although quelling her overly sensitive nervous system that triggers cystitis, remains an ongoing challenge.  Last weekend high anxiety kicked her nervous behavior into high gear, starting Friday with incessant meows while scratching every cupboard door in the cottage, nervously pacing from room to room until she leapt from a countertop onto the top of the fridge to a ceiling beam, to all surfaces on high.

Crazy Cat Eyes

I finally calmed her down with gabapentin; but when that wore off on Saturday, she became crazy cat again.  I concluded that her behavior was triggered by the nightly outside goings-on of squeaking and scurrying rats.  I sprayed a nontoxic repellent in suspected areas, and by Sunday she’d calmed down.  Those rats must have scurried off to another nest.

For the moment, with Samantha peacefully sleeping on the small rattan console next to my desk as I write, all is right in our little world.

Cat Lady’s Last Chemo

Posted on by
10

On Friday, April 16th, I spent my last day in the infusion lounge at Hoag Hospital receiving my final chemo treatment.  Getting chemo isn’t uncomfortable or painful; it’s the knowing of the week-long (sometimes longer) side effects that lie ahead that I always dread, even with the final round.  But this time knowing that a sweet spirited kitty would be awaiting me at the cottage helped to quell my anxiety.

Chemo side effects kick-in two days after all of the long acting premeds given before chemo subside.  So when I get home from a chemo treatment, I feel peaceful and relaxed from the Benadryl buzz, and when that wears off by Saturday, I’m left with the lingering energizing effects from the steroid.  Last Saturday after my final chemo, my kitten-like energy rivaled Samantha’s as we played “get-the-mousey,” “toss-the-pom-poms,” and hide-and-go-seek throughout the day.  I asked Alexa to play some Sly and the Family Stone and danced my booty off as Samantha watched, saucer-eyed and intrigued with my movements until she joined in by prancing alongside me (no kidding).  I organized my closet, vacuumed, did laundry, washed dishes, watered my garden then finally slowed down about sunset (oh to have that kind of energy everyday!). I got through Sunday with only mild nausea.

By Monday morning, intense nausea awoke me and by Tuesday, nausea was followed by fatigue, muscle aches and weakness, and thrush.  Before my first chemo the nurse told me that chemo side effects feel like having the flu—excuse me—you mean the flu on steroids.  Even the muscles in my feet became weak and achy.

For the remainder of the week I remained sofa-bound with the exception of random bouts of playtime with Samantha.  As I would recline back on the sofa, completely worn out after playing get-the-mousey for five minutes, Samantha belted out sorrowful meows, begging for just one more round…

I awoke today almost side effect free, feeling somewhat celebratory in my chemotherapy treatment accomplishment.  I’ve been called a warrior and have been praised for my perceived strength. But coping with cancer and chemo has been so debilitating that most of the time I’ve felt small and meek.  I’ve just been riding out the storm, doing what I have to do until the clouds break and the rays of sunshine clear the darkness. I can see those rays now.  I can feel them energize my spirit and reposition my outlook to better see the approaching end of this “long strange trip” I’ve been on.

I start radiation treatments in a few weeks, and will say that I’m anxious about it.  I will be facing more side effects, but as I’m told, they are not as harsh as chemo. I hope that’s my case and that my renewed spirit can maintain its newfound power throughout radiation.

My gratitude for the love, support and understanding of dear friends, family and my beloved Bobcat (RIP) is never ending.

Wendy and Cat Lady before Final Chemo…I’m gettin’ my guns back!

And now Samantha is here to help see me through the last leg of my journey.

Topper’s Presence

Posted on by
20

I greeted the New Year with a palpable emptiness in my heart and in my home. It seemed so much quieter and more still somehow, despite Lexington and Bobcat on the sofa in the living room. How is it that an eight-pound cat, who just in September was a sturdy thirteen pounds, could have such a big personality and presence? Topper left us on December 30, 2017 to explore the other side of this life—Heaven, the Other Side; wherever our spirit goes when our body can no longer hold it.

IMG_9764

In October Topper was diagnosed with advanced stage gastrointestinal lymphoma. He had started loosing weight, vomiting and his eating dwindled from hearty to a few licks and bites, even though he still seemed interested in the feline pate I was serving. During the first vet visit I had blood work done, which didn’t reveal anything unusual. But after meds to treat the symptoms didn’t do much, I took him in again for an ex-ray, which also revealed nothing menacing. He seemed to be in good health. Two weeks after that, I noticed him thinner and awoke at 2:00 a.m. just in time to catch him vomiting blood. My heart broke as I heard a voice in my head that screamed, “CANCER!” I pulled him next to me in bed after cleaning the mess; barely slept and took him to the animal hospital at 7:30 in the morning, leaving him with staff until the vet got in.

IMG_5057[1]

I arrived at work with having only four hours sleep, without having taken a shower, wearing no make-up, jeans and a t-shirt. I shut my office door and avoided co-workers. Thanks to a major adrenaline rush from the stress, I was hyper alert and managed to accomplish a lot considering the grave condition that my Topper was in. The vet called with a dark scenario—Topper’s liver was shutting down, he was in bad shape and cancer was the suspect. That afternoon an ultrasound revealed the suspected demon—advanced cancer. Topper was stabilized and given a long-acting steroid, anti-nausea meds and an antibiotic. The plan was to keep him comfortable and to see how he would manage on the steroid.

FullSizeRender[1]

Two days later he still wasn’t eating much and was quiet and listless. I stopped into Coast Pet Supply, despondent and sad as I told Topper’s condition to Francisco who was on duty at the register and who recommended hemp oil to quell the nausea and reduce inflammation. I gave Topper a dose at 4:30 in the afternoon and a couple hours later, he came out from hiding in the bathroom and seemed alert. He meowed at me. “Sweetie, are you actually hungry?” I inquired. “Meeeow,” he replied, and promptly gobbled down more food than I’d seen him eat in a month.

IMG_9667

IMG_9670

I believe the hemp oil was very instrumental in giving him a decent quality of life until late December, when his body started to shut down. After a second trip to the vet on a Wednesday to remove fluid from his tummy; having twice the amount of fluid removed from two weeks prior, he lost interest in food and in all activities. His face was drawn and he was thinner than a week prior. On Saturday morning I called the animal hospital to let them know it was “time.” My vet was on vacation, but a vet tech recommended an in-home euthanasia service, Home Pet Euthanasia of Southern California.

IMG_0147

Me and Topper on Christmas night 2017.

Topper passed sweetly and peacefully on the sofa, nestled in my arms and wrapped in an afghan knitted by my mom. Lexington and Bobcat lounged on the floor and watched as I kissed Topper’s head and said, “Good-bye Love Bug…”

IMG_7192[1]

In loving memory of Topper who came into my life as a nine-month old kitten in May of 2007, full of spunk and spirit. I love him deeply and miss him dearly.

img_6069

Sidebar:Dr. Julie of Home Pet Euthanasia was serene and kind, making a compassionate transition for Topper.  He was treated with such respect and dignity down to the delivery of his ashes directly to my home, which were contained in a beautiful wood box with a carving of branches from the Tree of Life on the lid.  Although the moment of his departure was extremely painful, I found such peace, relief and joy (yes–hard to believe) in the way that “Top Cat” was able to make his exit.