So, the harsh reality is that Emma’s cancer is so progressed, she’s not ever gonna beat this. We discussed our various options with the vet today, and have decided to continue with the Prednisone and she got a shot of something else today too, some Elspar-something-or-other. IV fluids and “Pred” are the plan of attack. We’re essentially opting for the junior varsity squad; the other, more aggressive options carried too many negatives for us. Heart risks with one protocol, bone marrow issues with another, and all of them would require Emma to take a ride to the vet on a weekly basis for shots and probing and general unpleasantness.

And, all of them end with Emma dying anyway.

Lymphoma in cats is often classified by the anatomical location where the cancer is found and whether the cancer is lymphocytic or lymphoblastic. Lymphocytic lymphoma is a cancer of mature lymphocytes and is a much less aggressive form of the disease. Lymphoblastic lymphoma is a cancer of the lymphoblasts and is a rapidly progressive form of lymphoma…

Guess which kind Emma has?

We’ve accepted that this is happening to her, and we believe that the best thing for her is to be here at home, even if that means that she’s got less time. Feeding her highly poisonous chemo would keep her here for six months, tops. We’ve been told to halve that estimate, by going with the less invasive/abusive method we’ve selected. And I guess we’re ok with that. As always with cancer, we’ll just have to wait and see.

It’s Lymphoma; both the mediastinal kind and the alimentary kind. Stage IVb. And as we all know from Johnny Sack, there really is no Stage V. Emma’s in serious trouble.

Emma gets oral prednisone and IV fluids for the weekend, to hopefully keep her comfortable. Monday we see the vet in person to talk about the strategy going forward. Chemo is the only real treatment option. We’re probably gonna try it and see how she does on the crap, but survival rates with this cancer are fair to partly cloudy, even with good response to the chemotherapy.

My head is in a fog.

Welp, it looks like Emma’s probably got cancer.

Fluids were drained, things were biopsied. More tests underway; expecting results tomorrow or Saturday. Nothing to do between now and then but pet the cat.

Shit.

Well, we just returned from the vet, and our fears have been confirmed. Emma is at least in the beginning stages of kidney disease, and she may have cancer to boot. We’ve heard this crap before, and Emma’s always dodged the bullets, but white blood cell counts and BUN values don’t lie. The immediate order is for hydration, and so—armed with a large bag of lactated ringers and a fistful of syringes—I get to do my very best John Gage impersonation on Emma tonight as we try to gradually re-hydrate her in time for tomorrow’s scheduled ultrasound test. Hopefully the ultrasound will allow the vet to get a better look at both the kidneys as well as the mass the she feels in Emma’s gastrointestinal tract, see what that’s all about.

Emma ate quite a bit at the vet while we waited for results, and her first injection of fluids seems to be helping. So, it’s not the end of the road, but we do seem to be on that fuckin’ road. Now we need to find out how long a road it is. You just really never know. Kidney disease can be a long slow burn, so maybe she’s got plenty more quality time left. Monday, Emma’ll have a follow-up exam and we’ll get more results, and have more of a picture to look at. For the first time since she got diagnosed with hyperthyroidism three years ago, I find myself looking at Emma and wondering “how long”? It’s really a shitty mindset.

Our beloved cat Emma is just not herself lately. She’s eating less, and as a result, activity at the other end has dropped off sharply as well. She’s lost weight, quite a bit. She’s also broken her last remaining fang, and at 17 years old the vet doesn’t want to operate to remove the root because they’re afraid she won’t survive the surgery (she broke her other fang about ten years ago, and that one’s remains were extracted; she was born without her upper ones—swear to god).

Being totally in love with Emma, we’ve decided to take Emma to see another vet in Longmont for a second opinion and really just a second set of eyes on the old gal. She’s our kid. As I type this, she’s sitting on the floor, sort-of listing to one side, half asleep. This is not good.

Our beloved cat Emma has had a bout with celebrity of late, appearing in the latest issue of Delicious Living Magazine. Emma was one of two test subjects for an organic pet treats article for the mag. My buddy Lauren occasionaly freelances for this magazine, and while their dog Begbie was more than ready for the challenge on the dog treat side, Lauren needed another tester for the feline side. Enter Emma. (Lauren and her boyfriend Bill were both roommates of mine while in college at various times, have lived out here in Boulder for six years or so, and were great tour guides when Brenda & I were here last May for my job interview.)

The very scientific test period occurred a couple months ago, and I compiled reams of data, none of which added up to much, really. But each day I dilligently placed one of each treat on the floor, and noted in which order Emma gobbled them up. And here’s the thing: I placed the treats in a random order each time! This, I was convinced, bordered on sheer statistical brilliance. Emma didn’t really seem to care one way or the other. She got her dope, three servings a day, in fact. After the test period was over, I compiled the voluminous data into a spreadsheet for analysis:

As you can see, the Greenies were the clear favorite, but then again maybe Emma’s just partial to the color. In the end, Greenies suffered a bad rap of late and Emma loved the fish flakes that come in a variety of formats anyway(hint: you can skip the pet store and just go to any supermarket with a decent international foods section and buy the dried bonito flakes). Lauren hammered out a series of descriptions that pretty much told the story on Emma’s gravitation to the various snacks, revised to omit the Greenies since they have come under fire of late. But really, the main thing is to just look at Emma’s very photogenic mug. Here’s the article:

If you’re in Whole Foods or one of the other supermarkets that offer this free publication, snap up the April issue to see Emma and Begbie in all their glory.